Recently I found out that I am a couple of people’s crisis. Hmmm. Do you know how that feels? Like a burden; like I am weight upon others’ shoulders. And yet, I understand. I am often in crisis. Suicide attempts. Major depression. Self-harm. These are all things that are monitored by those that love me.
The worry I cause it makes me feel both sad and guilty – neither of which I should feel because it is a “crisis” I cannot control; an illness I cannot control.
For example, I just called my dad because I had a hallucination. That’s right, a hallucination, and it scared it me (obviously). But why should they have to be on standby? Why should they have to worry about calls about hallucinations or the fact that I have hallucinations at all? Why should they have to worry that it is going to be another call from a hospital because I’ve done something to myself?
I never wanted to be a crisis. I never craved this kind of attention. But it is what it is. I am mentally ill and I have to accept that and be happy that there are people who care enough to catch me during crisis.