There are days when I feel "all better," like a child after Mommy has kissed the boo-boo and sent me off to play again. I have moments where I look up at the sun and smile, so happy to be alive and well. Sometimes I laugh until my sides ache at something silly. All of these moments? They are gifts to be treasured, because it wasn't all that long ago that they were completely absent from my life.
But there are also moments when I am forced to admit that the struggle isn't over. I am not a broken appliance that has been fixed - there has been no mystical healing. It is still a process, this transformation of mine - day by day, I grow and change, becoming a little stronger at each step. But still, there are signs of weakness.
Every night, when I get in bed, I turn on Horse Feathers so that my thoughts can't poke at me and keep me awake. Without the jokes to drown out the pain, I'm not sure I'd ever fall asleep.
I still wake up crying sometimes, when the dreams are a little too real. Once asleep, my mind goes in circles, around and around, focused always on what I want but can't have. When I wake up, it stops, but I remember.
Last week, I really wanted to cut myself - more than I have in months. The urge was so strong that it scared me into sobs on the bed, trying to decide who to call for help.
I'm scared, sometimes, to think of how far I still have to go to really be "all better." But then I realize that "all better" is a myth - a lie we tell ourselves when we want to believe that life is more simple than it is. There is no "all better" in my future, but there is "better."
And that gives me hope.