Don’t Do it For You

Mental illness is a funny thing in that it’s completely selfish in the most self destructive way possible.

So, maybe you know you’re sick and you just don’t care. What then? Carry on as best you can and avoid getting help to make your existence more bearable because you hate yourself just that much?

I understand the self-loathing. I really do. I still live there more often than I’d like to admit, it’s a familiar feeling.

So, don’t do it for you.

I’m not doing it for me. I’m doing it for my mom. I remember very vividly a phone call I had with my mother after I was hospitalized my freshman year of college. First off, let me tell you there is nothing more painful than telling a person that loves you more than anything that you want to kill yourself. Nothing. I remember hearing her voice break – she had tried to be so strong for so long for me and I’ll never forget those sobbed words

“But I am with you. I am walking this with you, you are not on this path alone, I am holding your hand.”

I knew then that I would do anything not to make my mother cry like that ever again. I still can’t think about that conversation without absolutely breaking down. I wasn’t convinced that my life was worth it but my mom thought so (and so many other people do) so I’m doing it for her until I can do it for me.

You might hate everything you are but someone loves you and would break if they knew how much you suffered.

A lot of days I get to do it for me but some days I still do it for my mom and that’s okay.

All that matters is that you’re doing it.