How do you describe a flavour that has no taste?
There are no words to describe this heavy pain that I am carrying. It is intangible. It is invisible. It has no flavour, no smell, no colour. Even I cannot see it. But I know that it is there. Sitting heavily on my chest.
Everything seems fine. I seem fine. I feel fine. But then, suddenly, I’m not fine anymore – I’m insane. I’m about to burst, I can’t bear it another moment. And then, just as quickly as it came, I’m fine again.
Insight is an interesting thing. I take some comfort in the memory that it will pass, but there is still fear in the knowledge that it is sure to come back. I can’t quite describe what ‘it’ is right now. It is not the overt tears and overwhelming emotions that it used to be.
Now it is just a very quiet, subtle death that happens inside me sometimes while I go about my day in my very lovely life. Like I’ve just died and no one can see and I don’t want to let them know because it will only cause them pain. And I know that no good will come from bothering them with this temporary death. So I’ll just try to smile. or not. But either way, I’ll just keep moving forward, doing the things I’m supposed to be doing.
And I will remind myself that it is helping them- my facade. My presence here, looking okay, acting like I’m not in so much pain, it’s good for them. It’s what they need – to believe I’m okay, even if they sort of know I’m not. And it’s not like I’ve got anything else to do anyway. If I’m just sticking around for their benefit, I may as well make them feel good about it. As much as I can.
This just hurts so much. I can’t measure it. I can’t express it. I can’t even cry. (The tears just won’t come.)
What more is there really to say?
My life is great. I have everything I could ever ask for. And I am numb to it all. fin.