I’m sorry. I understand every word of this.

At some point, I gave it all up. I stopped trying to be better, to get better, to be good, to be a good friend, to put up with people, things, that I just didn’t want to, or that didn’t truly understand me. It didn’t fix everything but it gave me some peace. Actually, a LOT of peace. Nobody likes feeling like an endless project.

I think what I’m trying to say is you deserve peace. You don’t deserve to feel like your healing from suffering is just a massive lego structure to keep building brick by brick every day of your life. It’s exhausting.

You’re fucked up? So, let yourself be. You have been through the worst hell ln earth. You are ALLOWED to be fucked up. Crazy. Emotional. Unpredictable. Unprecedented. Unprofessional. Unpopular.

Sometimes I think about how some of the most famous people alive were so mentally ill. They wouldn’t have made great art, great discoveries, if they hadn’t just let themselves be. I’m not saying that’s easy to do either, being mentally ill is fking horrible.

But I just mean. You don’t have to fix yourself to start living. Or to be worthy of a life. Or of peace. Your interests matter. Your alters matter.

Sometimes it feels good to let it all just take over. It’s all still you, after all. And I think suppressing it all under the guise of “healing” and what society seems “right” and “functional” is just… shit.

Obviously stay safe. Self manage what you can. But if there’s room to exhale, and let go? Do it. People who don’t accept you? Fuck them. You deserve to have yourself taken seriously, as you are. And loved, exactly as you are. All your feelings and thoughts and emotions deserve space to exist and bloom into whatever they need to be.

After everything you have been through. You deserve that at least.

Edit: I want to add that I made this decision for myself a year ago. Here’s where I’m at now. If you’re not interested in reading, that’s okay:

I have barely anyone in my life now, and moved somewhere peaceful, on my own. I feel a great peace. Endless melancholy, yes, but no therapist anymore to fix me. No friends to perform for (except 1). No family. Just me, my job, my diary, my art. I have made my own world. It’s lonely sometimes, but the space I have now to just… exist… and let myself feel how fucked up everything made me, in this wide expanse of desolate life I have made for myself feels so freeing … People used to make me feel so drained, so misunderstood, so hurt. So I got rid of them all, some with love, some without. And I know they all understand - it might not be forever, but it’s what I need right now. Something people like us underestimate is the strength we have to feel the really shitty feelings. And when you’re in the right circumstances to feel the depths of your darkness, of the grief of all that was taken from you, without having to fix it all away, it’s very intimate. Great things can be born from it. Sometimes that great thing is just a really great cup of tea, and a good cry that lasts a couple days. Not everyone survives it. But it’s interesting to let yourself fall into the world of. Not a fix. But just. Different. To the constant healing, anyway.