i don’t say it enough but. discipline is the good sister of chronic mental illness. at one point only your own relationship w your sadness will determine wether you’re able to stand up after crying for 10 minutes in a public bathroom, methodically dry your tears, and tell yourself ‘ok, I’ve cried about this, now I’ll do my best to get out of here and go to my car and then home’ knowing you’ve already prepared yourself dinner, in case you got too sad after that one thing that always upsets you. it’s knowing yourself. it’s taking care of who you are, day in & day out. who else can do it this tenderly?
you’re stuck with this thing, be it mood swings or depressive episodes or paralyzing anxiety or anything, really, and yet you have to clean your house, get yourself some food, check your emails. to learn how to do all those things even when you’re in the midst of a crisis is to educate your body, and with it your mind, to just…stand up, and physically do them as soon as possible. you have to keep listening to your mood, & be aware that yeah, maybe you won’t get everything done today, but that you are starting. and it does work. it’s an act of love, in a way. and as love is, it’s messy, it doesn’t always look very pretty, and it’s also damn easy to overlook. it’s being kind to yourself, despite everything, every single time, because you’re worth the effort.
it’s like the poem kindness by naomi shihab nye (this is only a fragment):
Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside, you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing. (…) Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore, only kindness that ties your shoes and sends you out into the day to gaze at bread, only kindness that raises its head from the crowd of the world to say It is I you have been looking for, and then goes with you everywhere like a shadow or a friend.