Ya know what I noticed? Ya don’t get much sympathy for being a mental patient or a recovering alcoholic. Ya know what I hear most times when I openly talk about it? Crickets. The only people that truly understand are the ones that have been there with ya in some capacity. I just feel that most others blame me for it. As if it’s some sort of choice or character flaw. As if I have to rise above it in order to be normal again or to fit in with society. As if I can just snap out of it and get my life on a straight and narrow path. As if I am a train wreck otherwise. As if my recovery in both respects means very little compared to divorce, to disease, to physical pain or only those things that people can see and understand.
That’s why we’re so god damn strong. We had to be. On our own.