My goodness, the emails that have flooded my inbox are humbling. My God, I could not ask for more caring friends, I really couldn’t. So, first and foremost…thank you my loves. Each and every one of you.
Second, I do not post these ramblings to seek sympathy or attention. This blog is mine. I try my best never to censor my feelings. When I’m having a bad day, or having a bad few months, I try to use my writing as a form of therapy. It really does work. I’m sorry that it worries you, pisses you off, or amuses you. You’ve a right to your opinions and feelings just as much as I’ve a right to my own words.
I want to touch on a very important issue when it comes to the mentally ill. There is nothing, nothing at all that anyone can do to “fix” us. It is something we have to live with and get through. When you have bad spells, it’s like a cold. All you can do is treat the symptoms until it’s run its course. I think that’s where my friends and family, Howard included, get frustrated. Let me assure you right now: it is nothing you have done or not done. Please don’t try to pull things out of me that I can’t explain myself. When you do that, it makes me put up a wall and I don’t like walls. I know it seems like I’m shutting you out. Trust me: I’m not.
I will tell you what will help me: listening. Sometimes I just need to ramble as much as possible, sometimes I don’t want to talk about it, sometimes the best thing you can do for me is put your arms around me, pull me to you, and tell me everything is going to be okay. Sometimes I don’t even need to hear that. Please don’t try to help me analyze it. That’s the therapist’s job. And really, he can’t fix me either. He just helps guide me through the fog.
And sometimes, you my loves, are what guides me through the fog as well. Your one lined emails saying “hang in there, kiddo”, “You will be OK, Chrissy”, “I love you”, lighten the load and put a smile on my face. Even not getting your emails and just knowing that you’re out there guides me through the fog as well.
I’m secure in the knowledge that should I ever need any of you, you’re there. I know that. I’m fucking blessed with that when so many other people long for friendships such as these.
Some of you, (Howard) have to deal with it on a daily basis. I know how difficult that can be. I am sorry from the bottom of my heart. I know how helpless (and pissed off) it can make you feel.
I can be accusatory, I can get downright batshit crazy with my words, but if you choose to be in a relationship with me, accept it, know that I’m a damn loon and don’t use it against me, or judge me for it. Yes, tell me to chill out, to fuck off, walk away, tell me to shut the fuck up, but please don’t say things like “oh my god, you’re just saying that because you’re depressed, well, you’ve got OCD and that’s why…blah, blah, blah…” and if I’ve offended you, PLEASE call me on it, because I want to apologize immediately.
But please don’t point out the obvious. Knowing that I’m crazy is bad enough. Knowing that I’m judged by people who aren’t my friends is uncomfortable knowledge, but one I accept and live with. I can live with it all. Until you betray me and use it against me.
I do know this: I’m one stubborn broad who will not let this illness get the best of me. I will tough it out and get control of it again. My battle scars will be many but I will never give up the fight. I mean, give up this great life and friends like you? Hell no.
Anyway ya’ll, thank you. Thank you for putting up with me, for walking with me, for showing up everyday and sticking it out.
That, is the best Christmas present I could ever receive. I am quite possibly the luckiest girl in the world.