Sometimes I think that (other) people with mental illnesses who are still fighting, I think they are so brave. I forget to apply that to myself; personally, I know how un-bold I'm feeling. How sick of everything. How it's hard to keep going. I know more of the tears I've cried, more of the times I've indulged in coming up with bad solutions. I know more of the hours of "un-needed" sleep I've enjoyed, more of the therapy homework I've left undone, more of the meals I have trouble bringing myself to eat. I don't feel bold. But really, I am part of their group. Maybe they don't "feel" brave, either.
It's amazing how much sympathy and care other people with mental illnesses can give to each other. Never mind - or perhaps especially in mind - of their own time in deep dark holes. Them there telling me to take care of myself. Me promising to see them next week. I'm glad I go to some support groups here locally. They aren't specifically for OCD - more generally for people dealing with mental illnesses. But it's helped me.