It’s Okay to Love Your Mental Illness

Sometimes, we’re the only ones who do

Photograph By sewcream at Adobe Stock

At the age of twenty-six, I walked into my doctor’s office intending to get a prescription for hand cream. It wasn’t the first time I had been there for that reason, and it wasn’t really anything to think about. As far as my doctor knew, I had dry skin on my hands, and in the winter, they cracked to bleeding sores that sometimes needed medical assistance. This…