I try so hard, but you need to be gentler with me. I often feel like I'm drowning and sometimes you don't take care of me. Sometimes you get angry and resentful and can't see all the small steps I'm trying to take to make life easier. I can't explain to you how hard it is when you push me beyond my limits and then are surprised when you crash at the end of the day. I give you lots of hints that I just can't anymore, and you ignore them. I make your breathing shallow, I clench your stomach so tight you can't eat, and I slow down your thinking.
I need you to be patient with me when I'm barely holding on. Sometimes I'm coming undone and can't hold myself together anymore and shut down to survive. It's exhausting to try and keep the voices away while you want to come up with pithy lines to impress a potential editor.
I need you to listen to me. At night when I'm heavy and need to be released please let yourself sob and not distract yourself with Escape Room games on your phone. When I start to clench your fists and tense your shoulders let yourself hit a pillow or scream or dance it out. And when your body feels so heavy it takes effort to even breath let yourself lay down and rest.
I need you to see how far I've come. When you were younger, I could barely stop you from cutting yourself and taking all your pills but look at you now. Even when unwell you can still mostly function and that was damn hard to get to. Years of trying out different pills, therapy, honing coping skills, and learning to lean on others when you need help.
I need you to stop writing this blog. You want to make it longer or more impressive, but I am exhausted, and I need you to put away the computer and just rest.
