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dragonlady7via http://ift.tt/2cOKFjw:
boxoftheskyking:
grungeisde4d:
this is really selfish but
why can’t mental illness be like any other kind of sickness where you go to hospital and your loved ones come and give you flowers and tell you that they love you and hold your hand and make sure you get better
why doesn’t that happen instead of awkward silences and embarrassing tears and messy bedsheets and a bunch of other stuff no one actually talks about
w h y
I can’t find a single selfish thing in that.
I also wish it was diagnosed like other illnesses. A blood test, and X-Ray, something that doesn’t depend on me being able to analyze and describe my own mental state.
When I was 19 I got mono and had to be sort of quarantined in the health center for several weeks and I just remember being so *grateful* that it was something that was *real* and *identifiable* because, looking back, I had a lot of winters where I felt like that but there was nothing anyone could diagnose so I just had to keep dragging myself out of bed and continuing to live normally. In retrospect I probably should have worried about that some more.
But I was just so happy to be sick in a way that other people could understand, and to not be expected to just continue on like everything was normal…
boxoftheskyking:
grungeisde4d:
this is really selfish but
why can’t mental illness be like any other kind of sickness where you go to hospital and your loved ones come and give you flowers and tell you that they love you and hold your hand and make sure you get better
why doesn’t that happen instead of awkward silences and embarrassing tears and messy bedsheets and a bunch of other stuff no one actually talks about
w h y
I can’t find a single selfish thing in that.
I also wish it was diagnosed like other illnesses. A blood test, and X-Ray, something that doesn’t depend on me being able to analyze and describe my own mental state.
When I was 19 I got mono and had to be sort of quarantined in the health center for several weeks and I just remember being so *grateful* that it was something that was *real* and *identifiable* because, looking back, I had a lot of winters where I felt like that but there was nothing anyone could diagnose so I just had to keep dragging myself out of bed and continuing to live normally. In retrospect I probably should have worried about that some more.
But I was just so happy to be sick in a way that other people could understand, and to not be expected to just continue on like everything was normal…
