I didn't used to be this angry, this skeptical, this cantankerous. There was a time before I got sick where I was trusting, naive, shy, and innocent.
Then I had my first breakdown and over time I got very bitter. As the argument goes, underneath every cynic there is a romantic in disguise. And so it is that I am one as well.
I won't excuse my behavior. I won't excuse my anger. I won't excuse my bad qualities. I'll own up to them.
But underneath it all I really do care deeply. My illness keeps me miserable, but I don't care to romanticize it away as I did when I was in my angst-ridden teens.
It would certainly be nice to relax once in a while. It would be nice to take something, anything at face value. And maybe with time I'll reach that state.