At this point, I'm gonna say that I'm related to myself, lol. I am my own family. The mental illnesses are beyond difficult to deal with for me. And others, apparently, since I get cut off instantly whenever I express my feelings to people whom I thought were my friends. I hold space for folks and respect boundaries, so why am I not getting that back?

I am doing everything I can in regards to 'conquer' my mental illness from taking meds, having a medical team, a nutritionist, walking when I can, staying hydrated, cleaning, etc. And it still doesn't help. I've even started attending the mosque for Friday prayers as a new Muslimah and hijabi. And still my brain feels like it's about to explode, especially trying to heal in the environment that made me sick in the first place. It seems like no one understands how I see things.

Life feels like a chore. I get triggered by the tiniest things. I shut down and disassociate. My escapism includes cuddling my teddy bears and imagining I'm in a field, about to discover something magical, and frolicking amongst the flowers. If only it were real life. So due to the severe dysfunction, embarassment and abuse of my no-good relatives, I am officially my own relative. That is it.