I realize that I am not always the easiest person to live with. Between my mood swings, my occasional paranoia, my sometimes extreme depression, and my occasional irrational flash-fire anger, companionship with me can be a challenge. I have moved beyond (for the most part; I do still occasionally deal with this) the feelings of being a worthless burden on everyone I know, but I realize that I am still not easy to understand or even to get along with, necessarily. Hell, even I don’t understand my own mind sometimes, and it does scare me, but that’s part of the reason I want to be a clinical psychologist–to better understand my own mind and the minds of others.
I can think of countless times I have snapped at people in my family for no reason, or times when I have been overcome with a delusional paranoia and I accused them of something irrational, ridiculous. And then there’s my moodiness and long periods of silence and suffering and just wanting to be alone. My family tells me that they don’t mind dealing with me, but I can see it: the strain in the corners of their eyes, the tired sigh when they think I’m not listening.
For my part, I am doing the best I can. I truly think I am in a much better place since those few years ago before I got help, when I was floundering in my own feelings, contemplating and sometimes acting on ideas of suicide. I see my psychiatrist and psychologist regularly, and I take my medications faithfully.
I guess the point of this post is pretty much a thank-you to my close friends and family, who know everything, who’ve seen me go through everything, and who have stayed by my side.
I know that they never would, but I’ll say it anyway: don’t give up on me.
I’m trying. Someday I’ll be better. I’ll be used to coping.
And until then, thank you.