Living with Mental Illness

My mental illness most certainly does not define of me. It’s apart of me but it is not me.  It’s helped me to become more patient with myself, forces me to pay attention my feelings and my body—something I have hard time with. I’ve been so busy looking after my family and not enough on myself. Now that I have a chance to focus on myself…it’s kinda hard.It’s like growing up all over again, getting reacquainted with myself—accept my strengths and weaknesses. The weakness part is hard: when the recovery takes forever to happen, learning to sleep on time (it’s hard to especially when you have a busy schedule like mine), pushing myself to exercise when my depression tells me “no”, trying to not deviate from my studies …

But… I’ve admired my biggest strength: believing in myself when people thought I was “stupid” or “crazy”. It was very lonely, not having a compassionate and patient ear when I needed it. Especially during my upbringing. My illness has also helped me to be patient, compassionate, strong…in other words they keep helping become a better person every day.

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