Ballet

One has to choose to be healthy, to be normal. That is the first step. One then has to take command of one’s own destiny. Illness is real, physical and mental, but all illness is a form of imbalance. To heal, one must seek balance. Medication does not achieve balance. Medication diminishes one’s motivation to pursue that balance, and obfuscates the path towards it. It may be one’s destiny to succumb to physical or mental illness, often hereditary, but that illness is one’s own gauntlet to run. Medication delays but cannot deny the ineluctable. Run the gantlet, your gauntlet, courageously, lucidly, resolutely. Peace, either in healing or in final rest, lies at the other end. Perhaps there is good medicine. There is certainly bad medicine. In health, though, there is no good and bad. There is only balance and imbalance.

You are your best advocate; perhaps your only real advocate. No one can or will save you; just as you cannot save others. They may love you, as you may love them, but love alone, cast upon the fallow ground of self-neglect, renders naught. To save yourself, as you must, or wither and die, first, eliminate that person you were told to be, said to be, and become the person you know yourself to be. Shame is the lie others tell you about yourself. To heal  yourself, enabling you, ultimately, to heal others, to make a genuine, worthwhile difference, of being caught in that pressed confluence, and proven look-substantial, yet strange to the familiar soul, in fellowed course entwined, you must be brave, strong, self-caring, enough to be alone. For it is only in your solitude that you will find the life-essential balance you require.