i was (am) sick

i think i’ve finally accepted that i’m sick. i used to say that i’m okay with it but it was a half-lie (words are so flawed and imprecise). i had accepted it, advocated for it, but deep within me i still harboured stigma… against myself.

i am sick but now i know that it’s okay. i have a fear of Capital Letters. i think i like to feel small, it helps me believe that my thoughts are small and controllable, not Big and Powerful. and it is true, i need to remember that it’s true. my illness operates within me, i do not operate within it. i am my Thoughts, but not my sick ones. my brain gets carried away with false narratives. i just need to be careful. tread carefully.

i am getting Better. i capitalise “Better” because Real me knows it with certainty (although sick me thinks this is a fluke, that i still am very sick indeed, i will not believe it no no no). i am happier. calmer. i’m not afraid of being alone with my thoughts anymore (most of the time). i’m writing alone, in my bed, under the covers, it feels nice. (mostly. i can still feel a deep, dense pit in my stomach though it isn’t engulfing me. it can’t and won’t. ) you see, i am getting Better.

not everyone is getting better. recently he told us that he thinks his disorder is back. “you know i have a problem too, right?” i was shocked that he was talking about it so openly. i pray he knows that i am there for him. i am not good with words if they have to come out of my mouth. i hope he could feel my support for him, even though all i did then when he said that was to ruefully smile, and nod.

mental health is a spectrum. no one has perfect mental health. i need to remind myself this, constantly. i cannot work towards a perfection that doesn’t exist. i just need to reach a stage where i can function. where i can exist in peace. where i can Be. i just need to be Better, which is where i am right now. and i think that is more than enough.