Not the Person I Thought I Was

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I haven't been the happiest person lately. The thing about sadness is that it's not a layer you can put on and work through. It's a screen. It's this thing that is always at the forefront of your mind, influencing your interactions. Every time you feel something it turns blue. Frost creeps over your eyes, across your fingertips and seals off your sense of touch. Isolating you.

The one thing that you can do with this kind of sadness is adopt distractions. Pray for something that will take you out of the cold for a moment and let you draw another breath to hold.

Your hands have melted the ice on my skin before. Brought me up from the depths to allow me my occasional breath of relief. With invisible tears spotting my eyes like stars, I tell you how you're my favourite distraction. Behind the I love you's I say these hidden words. You hear what you want to hear.

This sadness has been like a wedge in my brain. It's a hard black disease creeping out of the dark corners of my mind and infecting my cotton candy thoughts. I thought this time I'd defeated it. That any time I felt this way it was a natural relapse. But I think I'm starting to realise that it never fully went away.

That suppression isn't the same as treatment.

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