It would be a lie to say I understand exactly what you’re going through. I don’t know how I ever could. Not only does each illness come with its own set of struggles but the same illness often effects everyone differently. I’ve seen you on your good days and on your bad, struggling to keep up the momentum that seems to effortlessly propel everyone else through life- carefree and oblivious to the smallest of tasks that now take so much effort for you to complete. I see you succeed and I see you fight and I see you win. But I also see you compare yourself to others, their bodies but especially their minds, and that troubles me.

Despite the recent surge in body positivity, it sickens me that mental illness still carries an unwarranted stigma in our society. If someone is made to feel self-conscious about their body by comparing it to an ideal it’s an outrage. If someone is ashamed of how their mental illness affects their thoughts and interactions it’s expected. You should never feel ashamed that your mind works in a way that is different from what is considered by society to be “normal.” You need your medication to function just as much as a diabetic needs insulin to function, and it’s ridiculous that one should come with a stigma while the other does not. We need to not be just body-positive, but mind-positive as well.

You are not a stereotype. You are not defective. You are not worthless. We are friends because of who you are, not in spite of it. The mind that may torment you at times is the same one that dreams up the perfect inside joke that makes me laugh until I cry; the same one that without hesitation compels you to comfort me when I need you most. We all have our problems and insecurities, yours may be different than mine, but they in no way make you a lesser person. Through watching you struggle and win the often invisible fight of your illness time and time again, I have a new understanding of strength. I am so lucky to have you in my life, and I will try to do everything in my power to keep it that way.

I often find myself reaching out with a hesitant hand, wanting so badly to comfort you and make you laugh again but I’m afraid of being triggering in some way and doing more harm than good. I know I’ve probably said the wrong thing in some of these situations, misinterpreted your comments or been oblivious about a sensitive topic. But I’m still learning, and lucky for me you’re the kind of amazing person who doesn’t hold my mistakes against me. I will always be in search of that perfect balance between wanting to help and letting you deal with things on your own. But that’s the dynamic of friendship, navigating the fine line between support and independence.

We’ve been through so much together and I promise for as long as you continue to put up with my Hamilton obsession and hectic schedule I want you to know I will continue to be a shoulder to cry on, a hand when you need it, and an ear that’s just a phone-call away. But most importantly I want you to know that at your very best and your very worst, you are loved just the same.