What is ‘Better’?

I’m wondering what ‘getting better’ actually means. I don’t believe that everyone else is walking around not hating themselves. I just can’t. Everyone hates themselves don’t they?

And isn’t everyone depressed? I know loads of people either taking, or have taken, antidepressants. So, with that in mind, isn’t being depressed just normal…to an extent anyway?

I don’t think I’ve met another parent who isn’t tired so that’s not an illness thing either.

Then there’s binge eating as self-harm…well, last time I checked we were heading for an obesity crisis (too dramatic?) so that must mean a lot of people are self-harming with food.

Then there’s the alcohol. Again, getting absolutely hammered seems to be a societal norm. 

Mention insomnia to anyone and they’ll tell you about their insomnia. And it’s probably worse than mine too. Insomnia appears to be as widespread as sneezes in winter. 

All of these things really confuse me because when I’m better how will I know? I could still be a medicated, boozing insomniac and that’d be…ok? I’d still be better? I suppose so because it seems like that’s what’s normal now. 

Then I think: why put myself through all this medication and therapy crap? Why not just accept that what I’m experiencing is just life? It’s tempting. I try it every once in a while – the fake it til you become it thing. I’m just no good at it though. I end up wanting to kill my self and crying and generally not very functioning. So how come? How can everyone else be walking around feeling like shit but I’m not achieving it? I genuinely don’t get it. Is it laziness? Perhaps. 

I’m not sure anyone really wants me much better than I am currently anyway. I mean I’m not causing trouble particularly. I seem to have grasped the whole not-killing-myself thing (although I often get annoyed about the demands of others that I stay alive. Seems a bit selfish to me. Just saying.) I’m doing a fairly passable job at the mothering. House is cleaner than it’s ever been. So what if I never work again? Lots of people don’t work. Obviously there’s the crushing loneliness but that again seems to be a modern epidemic.

So I don’t really know what I’m aiming for. What is getting better? Is it worth it? The thought of the whole thing is decidedly terrifying. I’ll just sit under my duvet cuddling my toy rabbit – just like everyone else.

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