I have been thinking a lot about acceptance lately. Of my mental illness, myself, and all sorts of connected stuff. It isn’t, for me, about a diagnosis per se. It’s more about someone saying what it is that leads them to conclude a diagnosis fits, so I can see all the pieces in the jigsaw. This points to this and that to that, and so on. That would, I think, help me to accept things on one level. I also need to learn to accept that this is me, that these things happened and just because I don’t remember them – but my parts do – doesn’t mean they didn’t. I need to accept that, however unpalatable the contents, I have opened Pandora’s Box and you can’t just shove everything back in and forget about it. And yet with all that acceptance comes fear – fear that I will unblanace myself when I have been (apart from the anxiety) pretty stable of late. That maybe I can’t do this next step. That this isn’t true. And at the same time, knowledge that I can’t, won’t, quit. Seems I have lots to do.