I am unstable. Medically, mentally, certified.
There are things that you know and are aware of, but never really dwell on because you’re in denial. By avoiding the topic altogether, you can pretend it’s not real and therefore don’t have to subject yourself to the cruel reality that is your life. But that doesn’t last long, that period of bliss where you feel as if you’ve moved past the discomfort that lies within hiding from the truth. There comes a point where you’re sitting in your therapist’s office, slowly drifting away into the back room of your mind, and she tells you that you aren’t stable.
Unstable.
I hear that word and all I can think is that I am crazy. I know that word has a stigma around it and isn’t healthy to throw around but that is how I have been feeling for the past few months. I used to always view myself as good at hiding the inner turmoil that lives inside of me every day, but I fear that as I become more and more “unstable”, that veil I’ve worn is slipping.
I suppose This feeling of fear and anxiety towards being revealed as who I really am goes hand in hand with my fear of vulnerability. I am terrified that before I even get the chance to fully stabilize myself, I am going to go absolutely batshit crazy and everyone in my life will be able to see that. But even if and when I do become stable, I still will only have a fraction of a normal mind and that scares me even more. I feel like I will never be able to be a good friend or girlfriend or relative if I am always lacking a piece of me.
Unstable.