Are we the same?
You should not be yourself. own daily despair and of the lives that others lead. I have heard before that there is a word for this: sonder. I wonder about the life that I could be living if my brain were not the same, or if the life I am living is normal. I like to imagine that it is not – that you are ‘out of this world’ content. You are a fuck up. It should be simple to wake up in the morning, make yourself breakfast, brush your teeth, and get dressed to continue on with living. But, somehow, it is shockingly hard. I stare at my face in the mirror. Willing myself to pick up the toothbrush. Instead, I turn away from the sink. I stare at the dirty plates and cups on the dirty coffee table. They’re all mine but I know that I won’t clean them. I know that Anthony will pick them up for me instead. He will look at me, sitting on the couch with unkempt hair and unwashed clothing and pity me enough to bring them to the sink. I see the pity in his eyes every time he looks at me. I see the pity in all of the eyes that pass over it at this point in my life. For a long time I didn’t know how to keep myself composed in front of others – or even alone. But as the years drew on, and the feelings deep within me that compelled much I struggle inside. People I do know well don’t know how much I struggle. I wonder if for you this feeling of hopelessness has forced you to make a mask for others. Just give up. By some miracle my clinical diagnosis of anxiety and depression is ‘high functioning’. I do not
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