For better, for worse

I had a sober 21st.

I have been told since the age of 19 to behave like a 35 year old.

I have had it drilled into my head that there is something fundamentally wrong with me, and that I can’t be a normal person, while I have also had it drilled into my head that if I am NOT a normal person, I am a failure.

I have been told I am an addict, alcoholic, co-dependent, sex addict, love addict, self mutilator, anorexic, bulimic, compulsive over-eater.

I have been forced to adopt ruthless attitudes to things like relationships, friendships, self-preservation, health.

I have been diagnosed with severe depression, obsessive compulsive disorder, bi-polar 2 disorder, spent hundreds and thousands of rands on rehabs, psychologists, psychiatrists, weeks in clinics on the psychiatric ward at Crescent and Kenilworth Clinics.

I have been heavily medicated since 19.

I have had a nervous breakdown at 23 after my fiance relapsed and I was convinced all was lost as I had been fed the belief that once someone in a relationship relapses, they need to be kicked to the curb.

I have seen people in recovery walk out on marriages, engagements, friendships, jobs, families, commitments of years and years because someone involved relapsed and is now “dangerous.” For better, for worse doesn’t exist where I was.

I have been restrained against my will in psychiatric clinics.

I have been threatened with being sectioned to Noupoort, Valkenberg and other horrific institutions if I refused to comply with the wishes of professionals.

And now I refuse to live in a prison in my head, so afraid to even look at something the wrong way because it might threaten my “recovery.”

What recovery? I had no life. Not one that was worth anything of substance, anyway.

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One Response to “For better, for worse”

  1. I have been told I am an addict, alcoholic, co-dependent, sex addict, love addict, self mutilator, anorexic, bulimic, compulsive over-eater.”

    You’re a human being, that’s all. Why must we put a name on everything?

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