How wonderful it is, to be silent with someone.
~Kurt Tucholsky (via impozantan
I compare my mental illness to a person with a broken leg. I can get the survival basics down, the standing and walking. But even then I sometimes need support. And people don’t seem to understand: just because I was doing fine with a crutch doesn’t mean I’m healed enough to not need it any more. And then people approach me telling me to run a mile. I can hardly stand by myself, and they’re asking me to run a mile. I try explaining to them that I can’t. Not that I won’t, I CAN’T. But they don’t hear me. “Just try,” they say, “Everyone else struggles too. You need to run like everybody else.” And so I try, just like I’m told. And I hobble for a few steps before crumbling down - the pain in my leg is just too much to bear. And so I sit on the sidelines. Not by my own accord, not because they acknowledged my limits, but because I had to be in pain right before their eyes before they saw my problem. I had to demonstrate publicly the pain I was in before they believed me. And now I sit, ashamed, on the sidelines, everyone knowing how weak I am in comparison. And I had no say in it.
~Broken Minds and Broken Legs (via audrotas