Alive.

I'm alive today.

Today I am alive.

It hardly seems an accomplishment, not something to be proud of, not like climbing Everest or saving someone from a rampaging lion or performing open heart surgery.  But it is.

For me, alive can sometimes be a victory.

I am alive.

Tired, yes, and worn.  My eyes are puffy and my hair is a mess.  My shirt is torn and my pants are stained.  But.  I am alive.

I made it through the dark hours, when my mind would not stop, not even slow, not for a moment relent and give me peace.  I made it through the sibilant whispers, insidious voices telling me that I am a failure, that struggling, that the constant fight, all of it, is useless, pointless.  I made it through the loneliness that washes over me and drags me under every.  Single.  Night.

I am alive today.

I am mentally ill.  I don't slay dragons.  I do battle with my own mind, a psyche that has been turning on me since I was a child.

I am alive today.

Alive.

So many warriors of the mind have fallen, but I am still here.  I am not always well armed, but I fight tooth and nail, scratching and clawing at the ravenous beast that has consumed so many souls.  I can't make it give them back, but I can keep it from swallowing me whole.

I am alive.

I am alive, and I am mentally ill, and the two aren't always compatible but I make them work.  I'm not weak.  I'm not stupid.  I'm not being punished by god or gods.  I'm just wired differently.  My brain malfunctions on a cellular level and there's no fixing it.  No quantum mechanic to turn a wrench and make it right.

I am alive today.  Some days, today, alive is all the victory I can claim, but it is still victory.

I am alive.