I hate to say I struggle with mental illness. I prefer to thrive with it. Show it who’s boss. Thank God for my meds and hear Mom’s sing song voice as she says “better living through chemistry” elongating the “e” sound the “y” makes and then laughing. But even as I thrive, there is an aspect of the struggle that I cannot deny. Grief is an emotion, but I would classify it in my life as a true illusionist. One of the things I fear is going through another episode, which does not occur when I am properly medicated. In my mother’s decline and in her passing grief became a…