I used to think the things that have happened to me haven't effected me that badly because I'm able to handle the bad things that are happening now so well.
But maybe it's a lie and they have affected me, which is why I'm not handling them at all; just disassociating with them.
It's been years and I'm pretty sure I'm more than a little messed up. When someone is crying, my instinct is to hold them and provide comfort - and yet... I feel no emotion at all. It's like I'm on auto pilot, because my brain knows I can't feel that specific emotion at that specific time.
In order to be the comfortor, I need to push down my own need for comfort. And if you do that enough times, it starts feeling like it's disappeared.
Until it eventually does. And then you no longer crave comfort from other people. You self soothe.
Or try to.
And instead of searching for people who can provide comfort, you search for people who you don't have to hide your discomfort from.
And it's so hard to find them.
It's so hard to pretend.
The pretending is worst. But we put on the happy face for the world so that they won't see the mess. The you that can't bring yourself to take the dirty cup out of your room or make the bed or take a shower. The you that needs to remind yourself to get out of bed, when it's the very last thing you want to do.The you that cannot answer a text because that means mustering up the strength to deal with other people when you can't even deal with yourself.
Depression is hard, but that's because life is hard. We can't always choose what we want to feel. But we can choose who gets to see those feelings.
Because maybe, just maybe, they can understand it too.
YOU ARE READING
All The Things I Could Never Say
Non-FictionWhen words fail us in public, the poets write our stories on paper. This is a compilation of the things I could never speak in fear of them breaking me. I hope they can bring peace to others who find themselves in similar situations.
