My very lovely friend Soph (who also created my beautiful blog header) tagged me to write a letter to my brain, so I thought I’d give it a go.
In April 2018, you became unwell. There were signs. You were telling me you weren’t quite right, but I ignored them. I kept pushing forward, waiting for the day I would wake up and you would be fine again. I should have known better. As a consequence, you broke down. You became clouded with a poison which caused you to believe strange things. It was a weird time, really, wasn’t it?
Your thought processes took their toll on me, regularly reducing me to tears. I mean, that whole “you’re boring and nobody cares about you” situation was not fun. Let’s not forget when you convinced me I was taking up too much space, setting the heart racing and leaving the lungs short of breath. Yet, I see now that there was a greater force at play.
If I’m being honest, you were probably slightly ill for a long time. I didn’t realise that what you were thinking wasn’t normal. It had been that way for a long time, and I didn’t know any different. That is, of course, until those thoughts were so overbearing that I knew something was wrong.
It’s okay, it’s not your fault.
Since you were diagnosed with depression and anxiety, I have gained a deeper understanding of you. Things I thought were part of my personality were actually symptoms. Not all of them, of course. We can’t let them take the fall for some of our flaws, but we can work on those when we are better. Some of your negative thoughts were caused by words of others, but I let them stay there. They took up space inside of you when I should have kicked them out.
I have had to take medication. Luckily, I experienced very few side effects and you showed immediate signs of improvement. You felt lighter in my head, instead of a ton of bricks, weighing me down every day. Thanks for letting them do their stuff and not kicking up a fuss.
I also started talking more; opening up about your condition, and seeking professional help in the form of a counsellor. I feel I must apologise – I hadn’t realised how much damage I was doing to you by forcing you to take the load. You were bursting at the seams with thoughts I’d kept inside. It’s no wonder it became too much.
The past couple of months, we have started taking steps in the right direction. I promise we are going to make you better. You are going to be stronger than you’ve ever been. I believe you are one of my greatest assets. You have helped me pass exams, you help me write these words that others seem to love, and, on the most basic level, you enable me to do day to day tasks. I let you down, but I’m going to fix it.
We’re going to get rid of these illnesses. No matter what it takes, we are going to make you happier and healthier than you’ve been in our 27 years together.