I’m back in treatment again, and it’s only been a couple months. This time it’s a Partial Hospitalization Program(PHP) so I go to day classes from 8:30 to 4:00 and have the nights off. It’s easy to feel like a failure when the mental hospital has a revolving door for you and the staff all seem to remember you. In fact, there was another man in the program who had felt defeated that it was his eighth or ninth time running through one of these programs.

Then the thought occurred. I’m just going in for an oil change. I laughed to myself and passed the thought off, but later it occurred to me that there were more parallels than just that. My therapist told me that some people have a stronger immune system than others and just never seem to get sick, and some people are like that when it comes to mental health. Others, like myself, aren’t.

Some cars will go 10,000 miles without needed maintenance. Some need to have the hood popped and fluid levels checked every time you get gas. Both cars will take you places, it just might take a little longer, might need a little more care, if you’re in a leaky four-banger that smokes a little when you turn too tight.

Some brains are a little more high strung, they run on premium. Some brains won’t need any repair unless they get into a major crash. For others, you get one thing fixed only to find out it wasn’t really the only problem.

I’d like to think that my brain is a bit like my 1984 Mercedes 190D from a few years back. The upholstery was worn through in a few spots, so the rough plastic bird’s nest of support would poke through and antagonize your side, kinda like a persistent suicidal mantra. She had that diesel smell and rattled like a sonofabitch and could lug up to third gear without ever touching the gas pedal, if you were patient enough and wanted to prove a point. She wasn’t sporty, she went zero to sixty in eight point five months.

But she was forgiving and generous and got great fuel mileage. It’d be nice to aspire to her longevity- I was so excited when she rolled over 300,000 miles. I guess what I’m trying to say is that even though she wasn’t quite perfect for me, she ended up being perfect for me, and maybe that’s how my mind is too.

Another point that is worth making is one about value. A car can come to a restorer as a pile of rusty steel, and leave as a gorgeous hot rod. You always have value. You can always be repaired and restored.

I’ll say it again.

You always have value.

You can always be restored.