I used to just walk around - in a daze, like nothing ever really mattered. I used to just sit and stare and wonder without ever producing any results. I used to take the matters of life and death similiarly, and very lightly. I used to be unable - no, incapable, of distinguishing the meaning of anything beyond the day to day monotonany of indecision. I wasn't living. I was just being.
I don't think what I am is called being sick - even if that is what everybody says. I don't think that is it, because it is something I do to myself. And I don't let anybody understand because I don't want anybody to understand. And I don't talk about it out loud to anybody because I don't want to have to explain it to anybody. And I don't want anybody to ask questions. But I think I need somebody to ask something. Because the same reason I do it is the same reason I don't want to.
I am not an unhappy person. I just feel like there is such a thick barrier covering up that happiness that nobody can see it. I think sometimes I forget to see it myself. But I see it now. And I want others to see it, too.
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Jenna,
ReplyDeleteMy darling! I love you! What's going on? Do I know what you are going through, probably not, but I would love to understand/to listen. Understanding doesn't work sometimes, but someone to listen is great, from my own experience. my personal email is angelhep@hotmail.com feel free to contact me ANYTIME!