My last 2 posts kind of felt good. I think I said things I really needed to say. I'm kind of processing some of what the ramifications of the last 11 years of my life have been. It's not easy. I lost a third of my life. And that's not including the years I was somewhat symptomatic but only depressed before that, and some of that depression was pretty serious. I was first seriously suicidal at 14.
But I also may have been excessive. I don't want anyone to ever feel I'm putting down what they go through. I'm not. I know any level of bipolar or other mental illness is painful. I just am really protesting a (seemingly odd) system where apples and oranges are being called the same thing, and which will probably return to apples and oranges in another decade or so.
Part of what I am feeling that may be hard to understand fully if you're on a bad part of this road which may have come across too strongly is pride. I am SO proud that I have survived. I'm proud that I've been so extremely ill and now am doing so well. And feeling that pride is really important right now as I'm trying to figure out how I fit into a world I know nothing about.
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