Thanking My Support Network for the Little Things


You don’t think I notice the things you do to help me deal with my mental health, but I do.

I notice the way you never keep me on the phone long or you text before you call me because you know I have anxiety and I can’t stay on the phone very long. I notice the way you never seem to mind if I just listen and don’t talk much because words are hard for me sometimes.

I notice when you’ve crept into my room at night, whether it’s just to make sure I’m OK even though the pup is at my feet (or on the pillow next to me) or to sneak in and hold me for a while. Mostly because you either never shut the door tight after I had it shut or you shut the door tight after I opened it a crack.

I notice how even though you’re in excruciating pain, you’ll still do the things you’ve asked me to do for a week now because I’m in one of those moods where I just can’t get out of bed. Or, if I can, all I do is watch documentaries or reruns of sports games and events I’ve recorded. I notice when you bring me a drink without my asking, or when you pop in to ask if I’m hungry, or when you bring in my dinner plate and say “I’ll be back in a little bit to get this” because you know I haven’t eaten all day.

I notice how, even if it’s half done, you still tell me I did a good job or it looks nice — if only to make sure my feelings of worthlessness or that I could’ve done better aren’t validated like my mind wants them to be.

I notice when you buy my favorite snacks, or when you pick a cheap item off of my Amazon list and send it to me without telling, or how you don’t get mad if I tune out of a story you’re telling because my brain is going places and loses focus. I notice when you fight back with me when I get angry, to remind me that right now I’m not in control but it’s OK.

I notice when you snuggle up to me and give me a lick, not because you necessarily want to kiss me, but because you know I need it.

I notice when you drop the occasional message, or send a text, or reply to me on Twitter with either one reason or no reason at all to remind me I’m loved and I’m noticed and you’re here.

Every single thing you do for me, day in and day out, night after night, despite dealing with your own illnesses and your own feelings and your own problems, or in the case of my fur-babies when you just want to curl up or play with a stuffy or chew on your bone; I notice them. I know I don’t always put that into words or show it through my actions, but I see them and I appreciate them.

I love them, I appreciate you more than I can put into words for doing them, and I love you.

Thank you for working with me.

Thank you for loving me unconditionally, even when I’m the biggest pain in the ass there is and ever was.

I love you. Thank you.

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Unsplash photo via Abo Ngalonkulu


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