The thing about mental illness is that it can act like a giant magnet, completely skewing your internal emotional compass so that it's hard to distinguish between symptoms and regular emotions.
I'm grateful to my terrific therapist, my wonderful husband, my relentlessly supportive friends, and I'm grateful to myself, for doing this difficult work.
I feel like my brain is just constantly processing and coping and that's great, really, my life is so much better now than it was five or even just one year ago because of this, but the result is just constant exhaustion.
How seriously are you supposed to take these kinds of thoughts when you know you don't really want to die, but at the same time, the idea of continuing to exist as your horrible self fills you with dread and rage?
When it comes to my anger, one of my best tools is actually Dungeons and Dragons.
You can sit wherever you want. No, really.
I'm with you in the painfully liminal space of recovery.
It's okay if it takes some time to figure out what's going on in your brain. Maybe if I tell you these things, I'll believe them too.
Sometimes I don’t hear what people actually say at all. All I hear what my internalized shame tells me they’re saying.
I'm so excited to make this post because I FINALLY found a way to move forward in recovery.