As I emit the last of my energy through my finger tips I think about how in the world do I do it. Today is a day where the act of breathing is painful. Opening my eyes and thinking God, please push me off my bed. I consider myself to have some of the most amazing will power. Having given up on the world in my brain and convincing it to continue to push on is one of the most difficult parts on my illness. You see, I have an advantage. My children need to get to school in the morning. That forces me to use my backup power pack and do what I wish with all my heart and soul I didn’t have to do, get off my bed. That only happens Monday through Friday though. Today I’m ready for Friday nights’ bed time just because I know Saturday morning I can stay in bed a little longer. I try to never lose hope. About 70% of the people I know would crumble in front of this adverse feeling. I’ve heard things like “I can’t go…..and also do…” or “there’s no way I can….and also go to….” That feeds my soul. Knowing that these people aside from not having half of the responsibilities I have and don’t possess the limitations I come across gives me that super human vibe. When I am asked how am I, my answer is always ok with a big smile on my face. I’ve come to accept that things are going to be difficult even if they’re not because of my mental health issues. And talking myself through these moments is the best thing I can do for myself. I don’t depend on the next person to soothe me. I do understand that what to one person might seem like nothing to the next can be the uttermost devastating thing in the world. That’s why I’ve decided that the person I am going to count on is myself.

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