I know it hurts less to believe I’m not trying. I know it’s easier to think I’m not fighting. But the reality is I give it everything I have. I try so hard every second of every day.
And I am still losing.
your opinion of my disease is irrelevant.
Your mother did not raise you with a wolf in your chest so you could howl over losing a man.
I think I might always be in some kind of love with you.
I think the idea of “if you can go about your life normally then you don’t have a mental illness” is a very dangerous one because it keeps people who need to get help from getting help. They think “I can still go about my daily life so I must be okay” even if they are struggling and suffering.
Your comments about me/my body make me uncomfortable. Please stop contacting me.