I think Mom sees me. I think Dad and Shane and Claire and all of the important people in my life see me too. And that is what I have to hold onto and trust the most. That Mom appreciates all of the help around the house, the ironing, cooking, etc. That’s my lot, really. To live as well as I possibly can with this odd little big bad bastard of a complex mental disorder. I’m still the one continuing on, still the one battling my brain’s imbalance every single day. I’m still the one who’s proud to do my damnedest with this whole thing. Come rain and shine! An itch I really, REALLY don’t need to be scratching anymore, however difficult that can prove to be for my mind. Or brain, rather ❤️