Today was a good day. I didn’t cry, I didn’t have thoughts of ending it all. I saw some friends and played with my kids. I played with my dog and shampooed my carpet. Today was a good day.
I ignored the buzzing in my ears as we took a walk. I shoved aside the shadows that tried forcing themselves on me. I took a walk and got out of the house. Today was a good day.
Having a mental illness, a good day is hard to find at least when you’re in the midst of a raging episode. It’s not everyday you can ignore the demons. It’s not everyday you can tame your urges.
I’ve been saying the meds aren’t helping, but maybe, just maybe they are. It’s been 9 months since I’ve had a day like today. Productive and social. I wasn’t self destructive. I was smiling and laughing. It’s one for the books.
Cherish these days. And give dues where they are needed. We all like to think we are broken to no repair. And to a certain point that may be true. But days like today give me hope and give me a reason to keep pushing on. So don’t give up and never stop trying. Because in 9 months, I’ve had one good day. But it’s made the last 9 months worth it.
Today was a good day.