The Slow Improvement

I have come to the realization that I am not mentally healthy enough to live alone.

There will be times and dark days when I need the expectations of those around me to make me move.  There will be times and dark days when I need someone to squeeze my hands unbearably tight and remind me how to breath normally instead of the frantic in-and-out of panic.

I may never be healthy enough to live by myself.

But I'll manage because that's what you do.

I am healthy enough to recognize my issues, to talk about them even when I'm dark.  I'm healthy enough to take deep breaths and fight past my brain screaming epithets at me and speak up.  I'm healthy enough to take care of myself.

But taking care of myself means that I need people there to catch me.

I am beginning to learn, slowly but surely, that no matter your issues you can be a good mother.  That no matter your issues you can be a good friend, a good wife, a good daughter.

But I have also realized that I will always have dark days.  I will be able to fight my way out of the dark days, but I need help.  I can hold on for a long time on my own but climbing requires a hand.

And that's okay.  That's me, and what I need to do to take care of myself.  I'll take care of myself.  I know what makes me happy, I know the little ways to calm myself down.  Sometimes I need other people to do that.  But - and here's the important part - I can do that.

I'm brilliantly alive.  Slowly but surely, I am realizing that I am capable.  I am in the dark - this morning I woke up thinking that I wanted to die - but now I am taking deep breaths and saying I am capable even though my inner thoughts are telling me how pathetic I am.

I'm improving.

I may not achieve everything I want, but I'll find my own way and my own path and I'll do that with my friends and loved ones.  I'm not alone and I don't have to force isolation upon myself.

There's a fact that still leaves me whirling.
People want to help me.