by baekcat

I thought diagnosis would cure me, that their bright medications in plain white boxes and silvered blister packaging would be the cure I needed to feel but stop feeling. I thought diagnosis would cure me.

I was wrong.

Diagnosis led to therapy, led to more diagnoses, more medications, more sleepless nights, more fracture lines in my head. Diagnosis led to more confusion and broke me more. I thought diagnosis would cure me.

I was wrong.

I thought being validated by medical professionals would fix things in my head. “Yes, you are ill, you shouldn’t be feeling this way.” It just caused more questions. Why me? Why am I feeling this way? What is so wrong in me that I can’t function normally? I thought validation would mean people would accept my quirks and broken pieces. I thought diagnosis would cure me.

I was wrong.

Diagnosis led to one thing and one thing alone, and it’s taken five years to get here: acceptance. I accept that I am broken, and now I have begun to heal. This is my journey. I accept that I am not whole, and now I am starting to fill in the blanks. That doesn’t mean it will work for you. But getting that diagnosis, the validation, someone accepting on your behalf that you are ill and need help, opens you up to accepting yourself. And accepting yourself is the beginning of recovery.

I think, in this, I am right.

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