I have only (so far) pictures of sunsets on my blog. I like the visual and the illusion. When i look at them, it seems they could either be a sunset or sunrise - i can't tell - but i think that's what it's like living with mental illness.....the day-to-day living of it is just that. The beginning or the end; the opening or the closing; the up or the down, the rising or the setting. Unless you're right there, living the reality of the sun, you can' t really tell.
I receive an email from a friend: "so, how ARE you???".
"O, fine", i write back, "you know how it is" (except of course they don't really). I had a shower today" (I hope for affirmation, thinking they know what it's like to experience water pelting down like little knives, painful, sometimes throwing me into the foray of a flashback).
When i tell my pharmacist that coming to her is one of the highlights of my month, she thinks i'm being sarcastic, but it's true. Organizing my pills, sorting out the anti-depressants, the mood stabilizers, the "happy" pills and other body-saving drugs i'm on is a small demonstration that i can still sort and organize. Seeing those little boxes in the pill dispensers fill up, a.m. and p.m. counting them out, counting them again, peering at them to make sure - 3 of this, 2 of that, 3 of this, 1 of the that - i get excited when i snap the little flaps back on and marvel at the boxes and i sense the thrill of accomplishment.
How pathetic is that. Should i tell my friend that? Will she be as impressed with it as i seem to be? Nay - i keep the excitement to myself. It's my little 'sunrise' and one i don't like to share.
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