I’m still learning to love the parts of me that no one claps for.
I’ve always found myself relating to the most damaged characters of pop culture. Tony Stark, Chuck Bass, the Doctor, Harvey Specter, Barney Stinson, Sterling Archer, Jay Gatsby, Dean Winchester, etc. I root for them to find happiness. Because if they can find happiness, then someone as damaged as myself can find happiness too, right? Right….?
I feel this too much
The little things do matter.
Super incredibly maddening thing about mental illness:
Fighting your ass off to live a normal life and function as well as you can, and instead of getting credit and having people be proud of you for all the efforts you’re making, having people use your apparently normal behavior as a reason to invalidate you and think you weren’t that sick to begin with.
It takes a lot of badassery to act this normal, but the effort is all invisible
I wish I could do it all, I wish I didn’t feel like I was always letting people down
Today was one of those bad days that makes everything seem hard, trying to find the upside, just wanting to smile, knowing tomorrow will be better but today was hard. Just need my bed….or a drink
Time to get my life back in order, going to start living how I dress again, powerful, in charge, classy, and in control again.