It’s not even to do with me but I feel partially responsible because we’re linked genetically and because you’ve seen me at my worst. We’re not even riding the same misery bus. I can’t save you a seat because we’re heading in different directions. It’s so easy for me to see where your bus has stopped and all of the opportunities you had to get off it. I want to scream at you that your ticket is invalid; that you boarded the wrong bus; that this isn’t the ride you’re supposed to take.
You don’t have to end up like me. We share eye colours but we don’t have to share a diagnosis. Maybe medication or therapy might work for you or maybe you can choose something entirely different but you have to have some form of treatment. I can’t sit back and watch your bus crash.