The worst part of it all is letting down the people you love. The guilt feeds into itself, making you feel like an unreliable asshole with little to no worth. Anyone who deals with this utter hell will know what I'm talking about. It's like having two people living inside your soul. One is the real you...happy, alert, confident and ready to roll.
The other is a complete cunt, who seems hell-bent on destroying your happiness and beating you down into the dirt. It's an unending battle, and the enemy strikes whenever he sees fit. I hate it, man. I hate cancelling on people when the demon comes calling, and I hate the demon with a burning fucking passion. The bastard picks his moments well.
If you know anyone who walks this cursed path, go easy on them. It's no different from any other illness. There are good days and bad days, and when the bad days hit, the sufferer can end up on their knees.
I myself have had an on-off relationship with the illness all my life. Ups and downs, highs and lows, good times and bad times. It's so strange to know that the real you can be overridden by a psychological virus that fucks with your programming so viciously.
It's a bunch of unholy shit, is what it is.
I've changed my diet, started exercising, and pulled way, way back on the more unsavoury habits I have, and still the bastard finds time in its calendar to fuck with my flow.
If you're a sufferer, try to love yourself on the days when it comes scratching at your psyche. It's not your fault. It's no one's fault. Keep your head held high, keep fighting and, perhaps most importantly, don't hide it or feel any shame. Share it. Understanding the illness, and helping those in your orbit to understand it, are, I believe, key to finding some semblance of inner peace.
Love and perpetual frustration.
Please bear with us as Feind tries to get things back to normal in a new world.