Things are going well for me. I'm doing schoolwork as needed. I've got plans for this weekend with friends. Got a partner who seems pretty obsessed with me. I have all the necessities and I'm taking care of myself. I'm continuing to handle my situation safely, and that's really important. These may be things a normal person should manage with ease, but it feels like a lot to me. Thus, I feel fine in patting myself on the back.
Yet I'm frustrated. Being okay doesn't feel worth it. I can't see myself getting closer to my goal, to seeing you again. Now that I don't have death and poor life management to be as concerned about, I'm beginning to ask myself, "If she's not even looking, why would she come back?" The obvious answer is to visit you and show you that I'm okay. Best case scenario, you smile and accept that. But what if you still are unwell? I have no idea if you've gotten better yet. I have no idea if you'll ever get better on your own, especially because of the people who led us into this. That's why I'm frustrated; the safest answer is to wait for you to come to me, but you may never come.
This recovery is happening through weakness and strength. I use strength to improve myself. I employ weakness to wait out dangerous urges. Seeing you is dangerous because it could send you into a needless panic. That's what happened the last time I tried to visit you. That's what you showed when you walked into the courthouse. That's all I'm able to go off of. I don't know anything else, because you aren't letting me know anything.
I will just stay weak to keep from causing you trouble. I will stay strong to keep striding away from depression. However, I have to admit that, when I said I would do this for years or decades, I didn't realize how slowly and painfully time would pass in just these past months.
