I wanna break into your house and write love notes on all your mirrors

I know that for some people dealing with mental illness means absolutely having to fix your imbalance with chemicals that you are lacking, which means taking a pill to help you get through a day without feeling like your chest is caving in or your mind is going to explode. I went through an extremely rough patch that lasted years and is still clinging on but I always knew that in my darkest moments I didn’t want to be prescribed. Out of serious fear for my health and wellness I reached out to doctors. None of them could give me the real help I needed. All they could do was prescribe me, and I knew that was not what I wanted/needed, not only because I felt that I could beat it but because of my family history with substance abuse. I didn’t want to become another fucking statistic. And even though I was prescribed and was taking the medication given to me, I still felt the way I did before except it was amplified. I stopped taking the medication and it was hell at first but I cut out the things in my life that were only dragging me down that I had no idea were. I wouldn’t have seen it until I stopped what I was told to do. Am I still anxious as fuck? Yes. Do I still have tremors? Yes. Do I get flustered and feel the need to evacuate almost every social situation? Yep. But I get through it. I’ve learned to calm myself down and work through it in my own way. Some days are extremely hard. Showing up to work can be especially difficult. Getting out of bed feels impossible some days. You don’t always need medication. It’s not just about replacing the chemicals you’re lacking. It’s about adapting. This is who I am and I don’t need pills shoved down my throat. I’ve learned more about myself and how to deal with myself in the last 3 years than I ever have in my life. I can be social and tolerate social situations without feeling extremely overwhelmed and I can get out of bed when I feel like I’m having a heart attack. Pushing myself has been the best thing that’s ever happened to me and though I’m still struggling and working through it I feel so much fucking better. I felt like the best thing for me was to isolate myself so I could put myself back together but that was the most destructive thing I could have ever done. The more I push myself the more I realize it’s all in my head and I can control it. Do not stop fighting! It’s an endless battle but don’t let it stop you from enjoying yourself. Some days will be excruciating and seemingly unbearable but I promise at the end of the day when you lay your head on your pillow you will feel accomplished for taking those first steps.

What if you could live in dreams, with the occasional nightmare? Would you prefer it to reality? Or is it really any different? If you could have your body rest until it slowly died but have only your mind to explore? What would it be like to be born and stuck in that situation, with your body rested somewhere... would you not dream the same as those who have experienced more or would it be no different? I need to know