After a long and tearful conversation with Barry this morning, we’ve decided I can’t hold out any longer. He’s getting more and more frustrated with my refusal to seek medical care because it’s really hard for him to watch me experience all of this, which is understandable. I wouldn’t like to see him going through something like this. It is hard to describe what I’m feeling right now. To know that I’m giving in and admitting that I can’t manage this beast any longer is healthy in a sense, but there’s a piece of me that is terrified by this realization.
I’m coming to terms with the fact that I’m not in control of it — or maybe I’m having to finally accept the fact that I never really was. My way of dealing with it before was ignoring it as best as I could. That was my coping mechanism: to ignore it, and to ignore my own needs.
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