I said "I'm not defined by my illness." But I kind of defined myself with my illness. And I wonder if things will ever be like they were or if people can ever look at me the same. I wonder if I know how to function with my weird truth "out there." I guess I kind of feel watched, like very thing I do will have this thing attached to it, this sign, "She has OCD..." And that it's distracting now and my life can't be lived pure and uninhibited as I try to ignore my illness and live despite of it b

I now consider it very weird that I came out and shared what I shared: my mental illnesses. Was I crazy when I did that? Maybe I was. It's done though. I guess I was weird and crazy.

So now I live with my weird and crazy share, and hope it turns out okay.

When I ask Tim how he could possibly love me with all I've put the family through and how I'm "crazy", he, of course, says the perfect thing: "I like your kind of crazy."

This man. He leaves me speechless.

I am realizing I like opposition. I love it. After having experienced numbness on the meds. No highs. No lows. And now being balanced so I am not numb (getting back on right med, such a journey) and feeling pain, joy, the Spirit, I love opposition. I crave it. I am thankful for it.