I feel so much, like my skin is a-tingle. I feel alive. I love it. I have low times, rare, but they are there. Mostly, I’m in a good mood. Sometimes, I just feel so blessed and so happy, I want to explode.

I hope that this “high” isn’t a sign of something worse, lurking under the surface, of some inherited monster. Bi-polar and schizophrenia. Apparently mental illnesses/disorders run in my mother’s family.

Sometimes I wonder if I am sick. Then I realize that by thinking that, I’m not. Crazy people generally don’t worry if they’re crazy. I’m sane, but slightly neurotic. I have Trichotillomania, social anxiety disorder, agoraphobia, PSTD…. So yeah, I’m differently abled when it comes to socializing and being normal. (And my former psychatrist didn’t think I had it. That was a relief.)

By being open and talking about what is bothering me, I find that I’m not so alone and that I can help other people accept their differences. Sharing my experiences isn’t entirely altruistic of me, as I gain a sense of community and fellowship. In other words, I get validation and acceptance. What I’ve found is that it’s ok to have some neuroses, it’s ok to feel lost and alone as long as you realize there are other people wanting to help you, that you don’t have to suffer in silence. That you can make a change in your life for the positive, that you don’t have to remain shackled to the past.

That you (and I) deserve love as much as anyone else. We deserve life and everything good that comes along with it. Bad times just serve to make us stronger and better people.