The man behind his own tender emotional sequence is wise to accept the reality of help from those around him even when it seems to him jaded with repetition but not lacking in love.
I am a human being with a symphony of abstract emotional heart beats. These can be listened to or accommodated and nursed to a better place if I have the good fortune to receive a support when I need it.
So what do I do to continually help myself out of the help allotted to me?
I know by experience that by the work of my heart, which is the good health of my illness, I can be rescued from doom, again and again.
This is accomplished by a miracle of endurance and resilience within the good will of others.
I am not cured but I am spirited because I am always trying in the world and believing in something greater than myself. Which somehow makes things better even when visited by the shock of unexpected adversities which may be prolonged.
So there is a certain amount of balance when at the table with others and when operating on my own. As to be as independent as possible despite the affliction and to be ready to help.
My life is imperfect and I admit my failings while fearfully believing I am wasting my time on being ill and imagining I should have some other life. Where my orientation to work is free from the disabling affects of mental illness.
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