#auspiciousprincedisorder

“Getting better” doesn’t look the same for everyone, and it damn well doesn’t look the same between the disorders- but that doesn’t mean refusing to get better is a good choice or that you deserve to be around people who don’t want to deal with your shit.

Sometimes recovery is unmasking. Sometimes recovery is learning cognitive empathy. Sometimes recovery is respecting the little sense of self you have left and not trampling over it for attention or supply.

My recovery is unmasking and recognizing my disorder. It’s giving myself positive and consensual outlets for my needs. It’s confronting my implicit biases and understanding they’re not logical, they’re just easier than trying to be better to others.

Breathe. Focus.

It is time. It is energy. It is devotion. It is uniqueness.

The longer I spend with you, the more worth you have. The more energy you spend on me, the more useful you are. The more devoted we are to one another… the more I know you won’t leave. The more unique you are, the more I need to keep you on a shelf like a trophy.

It’s not the same kind of love as you may know. That doesn’t make it less real. That doesn’t make it have less worth.

That is, unless you’re ungrateful.

I hate when I have to sit here and listen to them say they’re so very hurt by the fact they were told that they didn’t approach a situation with empathy. The response is “I’ll try to behave better next time” not “I am very empathetic and I feel so offended that you said I’m not.”

Your ability to experience emotional empathy is a fucking crutch to you, because behaving with empathy and feeling empathy are two different fucking things.

That’s why you need me, isn’t it? Someone stable. Someone to hold you steady and guide you down the right path alongside me.

I don’t care if you feel it. You do.

You have to need me. What else would this be?

You crave my voice. My touch. My attention. You beg for my eyes on you, my heart to be yours. You call it want.

I know it is need.