Entenderlo 

I was bathing B when my father walked into the room and saw the cut I had on my leg. He immediately pointed at it and for the 100000 time in my life he gave me a look that was full of disappointment and sadness. We’ve been trought this a hundred times. It’s always the same. 

He says he understands, he’s there’s for me. He takes me to therapy. Buys my meds. And it’s “there” always available to talk. For him is not rational that I am not better yet. Even when I have all that and all the help in the world and a good med team. 

BUT FUCK. I am better. I am better than I was 18 months ago. Always high or drunk and fucking strangers and self harming “bad”. And restricting and  purging so  I much . I so much better compared to that. I’ve accomplished milestones in recovery. I stopped doing things I thought were impossible. And I’ve been feeling so much better. I have good days now. I sleep better. Still. One little thing for him makes all the good things nothing. And suddenly I am bad again. And not trying again. And not putting enough effort. For him relapse is NOT acceptable. Under any circumstances. 

And I tell a fucking thousand times that he simply will never understand it cause he had never felt the way l feel.  Nobody who had been trought this will fully understand. 

Yeah. They pretend they do. And they say things like “do yoga” lr “breathe” and they do everything to keep you “balanced” and “happy” and I appreciate it endlessly. But dude that’s not what I need at all. 

I need patient. Patient cause recovery isn’t going to happen overnight. Is a lifetime job. Every morning you have to wake up and choose not to go back to the same old bad things. And it’s not easy. Seriously. The choice you make when you wake up defines your whole day and probably the whole week or month. And that what most of our parents don’t fully understand. 

For them is just a matter of mind. 

Yeah maybe if i only had depression or bulimia. Maybe that could be possible. But I have BPD (and I’m NOT justifying MYSELF) but common . That’s something you live your whole life with. 

You don’t get to be cured and recovered and happy like the 6 last year’s never happened. No. You have to live with the consequences forever. And you have to deal with them and learn from them. 

And it’s so irrational that he wants me to be okay when I’ve been barely on it for a year and a half. It’s not magic. 

But he makes all the good things I do nothing just cause I had a small relapse. 

We probably need family therapy. Great

I till insist that he will never understand and he will never fully change his mind about the way my mind works. And it makes me sad. Cause he feels helpless and I feel worthless. 

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Published by

naarajasiel

An honest journey through recovery from a couple of mental illness, trying to get myself and life back together while I am the mom of a little muppet called Benjamín. Born, raised and currently living in México City. 🐒

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