I've been doing a lot of work since my diagnosis, but so much of it has been an uphill battle, and I've been deathly afraid of slipping back into old habits.

It happened the other night, where I was stressed already and my emotions got the best of me. My sister was sharing some more stressful news with me that involved everyone in the house and being charged more rent than expected, and I blew up, red in the face talking (yelling, let's be real) about how its bullshit and how this isn't fair, and I won't let us take this lying down. My sister said she still has yet to work out the details, but I was too upset at the prospect of being overcharged for no reason, I steamrolled and kept ranting. She ended up saying we'll finish talking after I've calmed down.

I cried hard after, feeling very guilty for being unable to handle my emotions just at an update. Nothing set in stone, just an update. There was also a mix of feeling my sister thinks I should just never be upset because she doesn't like it. Very ashamed, an attempt at sleeping that night followed.

The next day my sister and my boyfriend were with me in the living room, and my sister apologized for stressing me out when she didn't know the full details yet. I told her she shouldn't have to apologize for just giving me updates, and I was sorry I fell for the emotional "hook" my brain likes to create to send me spiraling and exploded instead of keeping in mind nothing was concrete yet.

Here's what got me.

That woman looks me in the eye and goes "well... You're sick. You've been working on it, but nothing changes overnight. Bad days will happen, and I don't take it personally, especially since I knew you were mad at the situation not me."

My boyfriend then whole heartedly agrees, and reminds me of the progress I HAVE made, and how far I have come in just the past year since being diagnosed. And how both of them are still proud of me and my efforts and keeping my Bad Brain (as I call it) that makes me self sabotage in check.

I cried such happy tears. They truly understood. They truly are there for me on this journey. They know I want to be better, and will never let me forget that I am doing better and can continue to do better. My sister and I's parents NEVER showed any type of understanding like this, even after various psych ward visits. I'm so incredibly lucky.

There are people out there who, while they don't know what it's like, still understand we're ill, and care, and can be gentle and support us. I promise. If you haven't found them yet, you will.