I call it the curse, when you are lucid throughout your mental illness. You fully understand you are sick and unable to function, yet, it’s like your mental illness is a separate entity, alive, breathing, kicking and screaming. And it’s stolen a car, thrown you into the passenger seat, threw a seatbelt on you, smiled maniacally, and then you’re off. The police are rushing, chasing after the two of you. You can see all of this going on and yet you are unable to stop it. You see the curve coming, you beg your mental illness to slow down, please slow down! Taking two wheels you take the curve and your mental illness laughs. The police are still in hot pursuit but there is no sign of slowing down. Peaks and valleys, storms and calm, mental illness behind the wheel, you pray to make it out alive.
This is the curse. This is being awake during the entire mental illness trip. Some get better. Some stop the car or leap from it while it’s moving. Some dig their nails into the dashboard and scream. Some quietly sit, eyes closed tight, lips parched and cracked, tears streaming down their face. Some… don’t make it. Sometimes it’s too much. Sometimes it’s too quiet. Sometimes there isn’t enough time in the day to journal all the crap that happened. But do not… I repeat do NOT question our devotion to get better or to function or to just stay alive. You may not see it, but behind our eyes there is a war waging; a full on war.
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