I have experienced young love
love that was toxic
love bound by a thread
passionate, insane, lustful love
love that feels like a warm blanket
love that feels like I’ve found something I lost an age ago
love that felt like an eternity could pass and it would still be there
love of friendship strong enough to be a family bond
love for an animal long passed
love for nature
I don’t think I’ve experienced true love. That all wasn’t what I’m thinking of. But it all has helped me narrow down what it could be. My development has been stunted, my understanding suppressed, but I accept everyone as they are and I do not try to change it. I strive for equilibrium between what is and is not, for peace among the chaos and cacophony that is the landscape of my mind.
But anyway.
I’m not easy to get to. I will only ever expose a part of me to anyone. It’s because a lot of it sounds so out of place in conversation. You don’t tell someone that you were suicidal yesterday without the fear it’ll alter the way you’re seen. But I’m so lighthearted about it, it’s nothing to pay attention to - it’s a joke I swear. You don’t speak of the nuances of the various mental illnesses, how I’m really feeling day to day, having or not having the energy for so much; so many things and they’re all things to talk about that, well, I’d be repeating most of the time just because it’s all a constant with few breaks. I feel like I can’t get away with being tired or sad or anything all the time. ‘It can’t rain all the time’ - it sure as hell can when you’re like this.
I’m not angry really, not at the misunderstanding others have or the complete ignorance in some cases.
I talk about this too much it feels. I know that it doesn’t matter because this is my space, my platform with which to express myself. Still. I can’t let go of the idea that I should just shut up because I’ve already talked about this same thing so many times. There’s excuses that are abusively dismissing of what I’m doing. I know I should fight it off. I shouldn’t have that silence because I’ve only ever seen the shame associated with mental illness prior to the internet I know today. You don’t talk about that soul shredding pit of depression, the highs and lows of bipolar disorder, the replaying and berating and emotional instability of borderline personality disorder, the paralyzing erratic affects of anxiety of any kind... it just isn’t done. You just deal with it until you break or you get the help and support before that. But that’s how I see it.
I’m just getting lost now. End.