An illness does not only affect the person who suffers, but those of family, friends, and community. I can feel when you’re about to come up to me and ask a question, but there is hesitation. The drive on the way to the doctor’s appointment there’s silence, that kind where you want someone to say anything to fill the tension. I know I’m not the only person who has pain during this time. My parents, just like any other parents, want to take away that pain from their child. I know how helpless they feel, when they see me struggle and know that it has to come from within me to make myself better. My friends at events can see me try and be my true self, but knows there’s the battle I’m facing that makes me not me.
During the deep parts of my illness I never thought that I would still have people behind me, supporting me. Putting myself and others through hell and confusion. I don’t even think I would be behind myself supporting me as I got sick. It takes a strong person to love someone who is ill. To stay even when I push and fight; you still stayed. Who are there day and night when I needed someone the most. I am eternally grateful for those who loved me through recovery.
Love, The Whole Version of the Broken One You Loved
iamwilling 