In life, you always get a choice. A choice to do something or not, to go somewhere, to start something, to do anything you want. With a mental illness I find that we still get a choice, but it’s a thousand times harder to make the right choice. You know what you should do, what you want to do, and what you’re going to do. It’s ironic because we would do anything to feel better, but some of the choices we make hinder us the most. Tonight I had to choice to do something productive or to stay in my bed for hours. I chose the latter. I know that getting up would have helped me more, but the choice I made put me into a funk. This is where our strength needs to kick in I guess, where we need to push that much harder.
Can we really choose to be happy? I see quotes saying you can choose happiness and stuff like that. I understand you can choose it if you don’t have a mental illness but I think people who do have one look at it and feel bad about themselves, because happiness sometimes can feel out of your control. It certainly has for me.