I live around but not among or with you. I am elsewhere. Same coordinates to a much different location. Many see me every day, most remember me somehow- truly, I often wish to die
(but I promised I wouldn’t do so by my hand ) so I often settle for being invisible (but I always catch attention). Although I am a failure, deep down I know I tried and must remember the next time forgetting leads to urgency of life or death. Cause when the mask cracks open more than most are willing to see (or I’m willing to show), people feel entitled to gauge my pain, feed their curiosity, make their damage. I become a ‘something’ and must act as such to endure your forced de-humanity without breaking completely and loosing your lack-lustre sense of kindness that leaves you at the same (or quicker) pace tears flood me and start raining out my eyes, at the same rhythm my thoughts escape all sense and come out my mouth without giving me time to breathe. You judge me for not opening up, yet I must silently watch you flee any time I do or if “it” come outs involuntarily.
You and your average-lifer issues, those I must listen and empathize too.
And I do. But really, living in this world with so much of all- except happy- changes you.
I do feel bad about your meltdowns triggered by people and/or their interactions. I do understand the feeling of powerlessness
over circumstances. But, imagine yourself @ your lowest low, your angriest angry, your most anxious, your most energy mingling unexpectedly- but no happy. Imagine the fatal mixture nearly every day for years, preventing or damaging your life irreparably… and then having to swallow it. Being prohibited from speaking out about the chronic condition that alters your everything, including you… So, I’m sorry that your darkest dark compares to my better day.