Beneath the Wave

"Better"

Everyone tells you that you will get better.

They are right.

You get better.

You get better, but no one ever tells you how hard it is to be better.

As a teenager,

My parents were always trying to get me to do the dishes.

"Just wash off your own plates," They begged me.

So I did. 

As soon as I began washing my own dishes, things changed.

Soon, they begged me to put them in the dishwasher too.

Then, I had nights that I was expected to do all of the dishes.

The more I lived up to expectations, the more was expected of me. 

Washing off my own dishes was no longer enough.

Being better wasn't enough.

I couldn't just be better anymore. 

I had to be...not perfect, but close.

No, never perfect, your parents would never expect that of you. 

At least, they'd never admit that they do.

I stopped sleeping all day.

I stopped having panic attacks-

I got my GED.

There was a point when my parents were satisfied with "At least she's breathing,"

Then, my progress was never enough.

I was praised for a total of half a second in my victories over pain and illness, and then refuted for not doing enough.

I know that it's important to continue to make progress.

That's a part of life, after all.

But I still have mountains on my back.

I still feel like Atlas, trying to hold up the world all on my own, and that feeling hasn't gone away just because i'm "Better,"

Better doesn't mean fine.

Better doesn't mean that getting out of bed everyday isn't a struggle.

Better doesn't mean my mind isn't still my own worst enemy. 

I've learned to deal with my demons,  but that doesn't mean that they don't still speak to me.

I'll continue to get better,

Just, please, remember, 

I still carry mountains on my back. And sometimes,

I'm going to fall.