Like all relationships, my interactions with my mental health have their ups and downs.
Sometimes we don’t talk to each other for months and then we get back together and it’s like my illness never left.
Sometimes it never leaves, and I never speak.
That’s what’s been happening for the past few months.
I crashed. Not hard. I mean, not harder than I’ve crashed before, but I crashed nonetheless. And instead of trying to force myself up, I’ve stayed down.
Eating the same food. watching the same shows. Seeing the same people.
It’s been a while since I did anything or felt useful.
But this time, I’ve taken it slow.
It feels like I’ve wasted months of my life.
But it’s all still here, waiting.