The moment it begins to feel unbearable, it's time to say you aren't okay.
The moment it begins to feel as though life is the very thing that's killing you, it's time to say you aren't okay.
When you sit down on your own and getting through to the next day seems impossible, it's time to say you aren't okay.
I'm not okay.
In 15 days I'm going to see the Dr, and there I'll ask to be re-referred to therapy. Until then...well, I have just over two weeks to get through. I'm fighting the instinct to push away the people who want to help me, which is proof that I'm learning how to manage my illness. Normally I wouldn't realise that I was pushing people away until the fog started to lift and I found myself alone.
For the second time this year, I'm engaged in a battle with my mind. Relapse would be easy. Self-harm may bring momentary relief.
I don't want to take the easy road. I'm coming up to 3 years of recovery. I do not want to take the easy road.
Despite the grit and determination, though, it's time for me to say that I'm not okay. It's time for me to say that I need someone to hold me upright; that everything hurts and I just want to retreat to my bed for a few weeks or so.
That's not to say that I've been honest with those around me as I've felt myself beginning to sink. When asked how I am, I've slipped back into that awful habit of saying "fine" or "okay" or "grand". I'm going to make a vow here and now to try to correct myself when people ask how I'm doing from this day forward.
I'm not okay. Are you?