Since I started weeding out toxic friendships I’ve come to fully understand the following:
Being mean and hurtful on purpose is not funny.
Being a mess is not glamorous or “punk.”
Self destruction is really boring.
As a result of these realizations and embracing the fact that I am hyper sensitive and very self aware, I feel the best I have in years. Actually, I’m pretty sure this is the best I have ever felt.
Sobriety and feeling stable are weird.
I refuse to feel guilty for either.
Super incredibly maddening thing about mental illness:
Fighting your ass off to live a normal life and function as well as you can, and instead of getting credit and having people be proud of you for all the efforts you’re making, having people use your apparently normal behavior as a reason to invalidate you and think you weren’t that sick to begin with.
It takes a lot of badassery to act this normal, but the effort is all invisible