Those Doubts are Demons

I truly have the most amazing boyfriend. He is sweet and kind, he is loving and cares only about my happiness. But he is not perfect; I struggle with depression and anxiety, and that is something that he just doesn’t understand. He doesn’t understand that I have good days and bad days. Or that when I have those bad days, I don’t want to hide myself from him. I want him to see me, but he doesn’t understand. He doesn’t understand that when I have those bad days and he asks me what’s wrong and I respond with “nothing”, it’s not because I’m being a pain in the ass; it’s because there’s no one particular thing that’s wrong, there’s nothing he did, there’s nothing I’m hiding, I’m just having a “dark” day. To him, the things that give me anxiety are irrational. He doesn’t understand that when I am having an anxiety attack, I’m not looking to have my issues be belittled, I’m just looking for him to tell me it’s going to be okay. It just takes a second and then he can go about his day. Humor me. He doesn’t understand that my sickness requires the most of his ability to show patience. And that I really need him to stop thinking that I’m okay with leaving our house unlocked because it’s not going to fucking happen.

The worst part of having these issues is that when I have those “dark” days, my mind is filled with doubt. Doubt about our relationship. Doubt that I can make this work. But those doubts aren’t real, those doubts aren’t me, those doubts are demons. I don’t listen to those doubts. I have those doubts because he doesn’t understand. But on one hand, I’m glad that my sickness is something he doesn’t understand, because that mean he isn’t burdened by it. On the other hand, we all just want to be understood.

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