My life has been quite the wild rollercoaster lately. My roommate is engaged, I’ve set a target move out date, I’ve got a boyfriend who is quite possibly the best thing that’s ever happened to me, my roommate and I had a rather epic row and got all of our issues out and resolved, so now I’m more involved in the wedding and decorating for it, I’ve got a convention coming up and dear LORD I am so far behind in preparations…
It has been positively nuts here lately.
My boyfriend is extremely sensitive to my illness, and is committed to love me no matter what my mental state is at the moment. He is supportive and so intuitive, and yet I know I am an equal partner in this, rather than someone he needs to take care of out of some misguided sense of duty.
I sort of hate how schmoopy he’s making me, but I suppose I’ll live. 🙂
Thursday was the Ides of March, which is the anniversary date of my first hospitalization. I’m writing this post on the anniversary of my discharge from the hospital. It’s now been seven years since I was hospitalized. I’ve only had two ER trips since then, and no admissions. I’m healthier and more stable now than I’ve ever been in my entire life.
My therapist was completely blown away at how different I’m becoming now that I’ve got my boyfriend in my life. I’m happy, legitimately happy, and I feel stronger, able to take on more because I know I’ve got support and the love of a man who wants me to continue to thrive.
It is a bit strange and somewhat discomforting at times, but I think I could get used to this “wellness” thing…