Being in any relationship has its hardships and delights, but when mental health issues are in the mix does this complicate things or does it enlighten them?
At what point do you tell them? Right at the beginning, on your dating profile, after six months or just wait for them to notice and say, oh didn’t I tell you? When is it okay to say, “Hey! I have a mental illness, well not one or two but three!” When will they believe it’s just a part of me?
I am open about my illnesses yet it doesn’t make it any easier to discuss them and how they really affect my day to day life. I know It is one thing to admit you have them, then another to go into detail.
In any new relationship you don’t really know someone until you’ve known them a while, what’s the saying, “when the honeymoon period is over, then you see who they are.”
It’s not that I’m afraid to admit the challenges I face I am afraid to admit that these challenges will become ours.
Mental illness is the third wheel, it’s the unexplainable void. You don’t want to scare them off before they even get to know you but isn’t that a part of getting to know you. If they can’t accept you at your worst they don’t deserve you at your best?!
What if my best is the best pieces of who I am and my worst, quite literally are the scariest things bout me?
Is it fair to assume that someone can deal with these flaws even when I can’t, even when I struggle? Is it fair to assume that halving the weight is the best thing to do? For both of us.
How I do know they won’t leave when I need them most? More so what happens when they do, will the pain of that out weight the greatness I’ve felt of their love?
I spent several years and a few relationships guessing that something wasn’t quite right, but now that I know for sure, walking into another relationship I know I can’t hold my cards to my chest, it’s not showing the cards that frighten me it’s the leaving my chest vulnerable.
I guess that’s what any connection we have is about, any relationship, trust and vulnerability. Opening your arms to glory but silently hoping there is no arrow headed for your heart.
Hoping that what you give even if not much will be returned. You will be equals.
And that’s the thing, being someone with mental illness most days you don’t feel as though you are an equal, even to yourself. And that’s on a good day, on a bad day you know full well you are not.
So fulfilling a stable relationship even with oneself should be the biggest priority, yet today’s view is the relationship that we with have with the rest of the world is the one that matters.
One must love themselves before someone else can them as well. What if on some days you do love yourself? What happens on the days you don’t?
Do they understand? Are they willing to take that chance?
Do I confess, do I confide? Do I open my arms and hope for soft tide?