In my sickness, when my brain goes rotten, it is then I see myself through another’s eyes. One person I’ve chosen to represent all of the ill things I think of myself…all of the worries I have about the things I am and the things I am not. Who treats me the way a small part of me thinks I deserve to be treated. A person whose actions stab me like a thousand knives in my heart and in my soul. They hurt me more than they should. Sneak up on me when I’m trying to fall asleep. Sneak up on me when I’m tired and frustrated. Sneak up on me when the stress gets to be too much. When the quiet creeps in, there is room for these thoughts.

It doesn’t matter what this person thinks of me. Their actions have spoken for themselves. And my mind blows them into unbelievably large events. In my mind, in these times, they matter much more than they do.  It is easy to move forward, to forgive…to forget…to see myself as I truly am…to see myself as loved and surrounded by dozens of caring, supportive friends. Nobody has better friends than I do. The people in my life are truly amazing.

But it’s hard to remember this when I see myself through another’s eyes.