My sister and I have always had different approaches to mental health. Her approach was more along the lines of keeping moving, staying busy. I still have trouble keeping busy even to the extent that normal people do. Trying to deal with the world makes me feel like a sloth watching chimps shriek and jump around like lunatics.
As I push myself to keep going, doing so much more than I used to, I've been recognizing something else. A desperation, a fear of missing a single step, on top of all the steps I miss for my own mental health reasons. As I struggle to keep making progress, it feels glacially slow, while backsliding seems to be on the verge of constant avalanche.
It changes a person's priorities, making the goal oriented behaviour feel more important than everything else. Everything else being essentially contingent on a presumption that I'm succeeding in this uphill climb, where the only alternative is tumbling backwards to my death.
"Growing instead of withering" also comes to mind, strikingly similar in binary choice. Ideas, underpinned by this desperation. To finally outpace depression, but just barely. If I slip back into that, fuck everything.
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