Is something I often hear from certain friends or family. I don’t know what are the expectations of people, really. I feel everyday sick as hell. Walking two blocks sometimes seems like hiking a mountain. Smiling to someone sometimes feels like I have to tear my mouth with a knife in order to look happy. But I do it anyway. I always want to keep trying. Some interpret this as 1)I was lying to them, or 2)I’m somewhat depressed but exaggerating.
It’s when someone finds out that I still harm myself on a regular basis, or that for a minute I can’t return to my usual witty self that some realize that something is wrong. But then I have to cope with their insensitive anger and unnecessary comments.
But, what’s up with this mental illness thing? Aren’t you old enough to get over this? Don’t you have a partner? What else do you want from life?
The other day a friend I had not seen in a very long time came to visit me. And told me this exact words. It seemed that the distance that appeared between us came from a circumstance called a big ocean, but that was just a symbol. The ocean was there from a long time before our rift.
This person never wanted to understand. When I was young I was more indulgent, more lonely, more stupid. I committed the sin of keeping my mouth closed around rampant homophobic and misogynistic attitudes. But then, a long time ago, I woke up and never looked back.
What I want from life are people like you to take conscience, and if you fail to do so, then stop existing. Maybe that is my answer.
I’m struggling with words at this moment because my impotence is paralyzing. I know that in a way I made the right thing by saying good bye saving drama, since it wasn’t worth it. I don’t know if we will meet again.
But this leaves me with this rotten bunch of emotions clogging my system. I didn’t wanted to fight with this person because I was very aware he will never understand my situation. He kept misgendering me in front of my partner and turned a blind eye to zher indignation.
And I know that this person will remember me as someone never existed. For people like me, this is obviously not the first time. Nor the second, or tenth. This is the awareness of the fact that a big percentage of people I know (and care or cared about) never, indeed, knew me. Never wanted to get past the superficial layers. So in other words, this people will never actually remember me.
It’s like I never existed. It’s like I’m not existing in this very moment.
And the only thought that stays with me is, now that I don’t and can’t exist, even death seems insignificant. You can’t kill something that wasn’t alive.