File Buz

I used to love people. I loved learning about them, I loved telling them about myself, I loved connecting on that deep level that comes with those special kinds of kinship. Sometimes it means staying up until three in the morning talking about nothing in particular. Other times it means sitting in silence; being wordlessly understood. Over the years Ive become calloused but never irreparably broken. Who hasnt? Recent events though have sounded the death knell on my willingness to share my heart. Ive never been so closed off.

When I say its high time for me to come to terms with my illness, I mean its been the most difficult thing Ive ever had to do. I barely understand myself which begs an even scarier question: how am I supposed to make others understand me?

I try to be as open and honest as possible about my illness, especially to those around me. Some just dont get it. While I could berate those people for being ignorant and ableist (would they give me as hard a time if I had heart disease or something more visible?) I let it go. Its okay. They dont have to understand. They arent beholden to me. Others say they get it and invite me to share my struggles. Most are well-meaning and Im so incredibly thankful for them. Ive learned though, unfortunately, not all seemingly well-meaning people actually are. Theyll take that vulnerability and use it to tear you apart.

Without getting into too much detail, a best friend of mine did this not too long ago and Im struggling to get through all the layers of hurt, confusion, and anger. The years of talking me through my darkest times, countless nights spent crying, and endless adventures were all nothing. She told others my sadness, my mental illness, was nothing but drama. The times I spent pouring my heart out, my struggles to find the best medication for me were nothing but attention-seeking behavior. I thought I was understood. She offered me a safe place then she turned around and used my deepest insecurities to tear my world apart.

Through all this though, Ive learned a crucial lesson about the human spirit and self-preservation. Ive lashed out in anger. Ive been so inconsolably indignant in the most unattractive way. Its brought out this ugly, vindictive side of me that Ive never seen before and quite honestly, its terrified me. I used to find forgiveness so easy. Now? I tell myself she doesnt deserve my forgiveness. I cant wish her well because somebody so nasty should have nasty things happen. But I cant think this way. Its just as toxic. No, Ive realized that rationally, sometimes there is no place to go but into anger when youve been hurt so bad and are afraid of being vulnerable. It doesnt make it right. But its natural, maybe even a little bit healthy. How gentle and kind can you be when you feel the need to build walls around yourself? Vulnerability can be terrifying. Vulnerability after being hurt by one of your most-trusted friends can be impossible.

Nobody ever said that living with mental illness would be easy but nothing could have prepared me for something like this. To be perfectly honest, it made me feel kind of hopeless. Theres nothing I can do about my mental states sometimes. I cant tell when an episode is going to happen and when it does, its as if Im a spectator to my own hot mess. When its over, Im sad and ashamed. Now on top of all that, Im apt to cut myself off before getting hurt by somebody so bad again. In a way Im glad this happened because it made me take stock of my life and my priorities. In another way, and definitely more so, Im gutted to know that Ive lost a best friend and that it happened in such an ugly way.

Such is life. Though its definitely been the most horrendous, it wasnt the first and it wont be the last. Ill keep working on myself to become a better person and maybe Ill slowly begin to trust others again. Until then, Ill try my best to stay strong and keep my chin up. What else is there to do? Mustnt let this steal my joy. Heartbroken? Yes. Beyond repair? No. Not just yet.

xo,
e.m.