I wish I had answers.
I always do.
Truth is, I don't have a clue.
Chemical imbalance, illness, emotions.
They're all just words. You can find them all in a dictionary or on google. You can seek their definitions and be able to recite them word for word.
Unfortunately mental illness changes from person to person. There isn't one clear meaning or reaction. No matter what the internet, doctors and dictionaries say.
We all spiral differently.
There are shades of darkness.
Some of us fight the darkness with substances.
Some of us fight the darkness with self harm.
Some of us don't fight the darkness, but embrace it like an old friend.
If we hurt other people, we're hurting ourselves twice, three times, four times more.
I am still in my break down.
The start, the middle, the end, I don't know.
I still wake up every morning wishing I hadn't.
Take that as you will.
My life is not my own, it belongs to a curly haired little girl who loves me more than I think anyone ever has.
I don't have choices of my own.
Right now my choices belong to my daughter and my illness.
They want very different things.
My illness tells me I don't care. My illness tells me sleep. My illness tells me everything and everyone can fuck off.
My daughter tells me she loves me. Tells me to play. Tells me to read. Tells me to live.
I will never have answers, I can only hope for solutions.
If it takes 18 hours of sleep a day to spend 6 with my Monkey, I accept that for the moment.
I feel safe in the darkness. Like a warm blanket on a cold night.
I don't know what will or is happening. I know I fight in my own way. You may not see it, you may not like it, you may not accept it but this is the control my illness has.
