The darkness overwhelms me, shadows, fear, pain. A fog envelops me, for that is when I am pressured to perform. To convince that I am normal. That because I am young I have no pain, no reason for exhaustion. But I am Pain, I am Exhaustion. I am old under this skin. They see the smile on the outside, the cheerful voice and come to expect it, so when it impossible for me to show that, I am just too spent, they feel justified in calling me rude. Saying I have no compassion. I'm sorry if my compassion is missing. Where is yours? Is it missing too? Excuse me while I try to muster up enough energy to apologize. Let me try to escape the fog enough to understand what you are implying. Don't worry. Tomorrow the mask will be in place once more. I'm glad you enjoyed my performance today. Day spent, I head home peeling back the layers to reveal the fatigue, the fraud, the tears, the pain. The "real" me that is taking over like I am a host. I wasn't always like this. I slip into darkness and repair the cracks in the mask, find the friendly voice that I misplaced during the day. So by morning the performance begins again. I'll do better today, I promise. The sun is shining. I'm fine. Really...
2 comments:
Beautiful..brought me to tears because it is so true. As my world crumbles I am to blame . They don't see what is truly going on . I am always asked "what is wrong with you ?" and they anger and the frustration from my husband is no longer a concerned tone . It's a tone of disgust and noncompassionate . My life is painful in more ways than one but I am glad others do understand Thank you for sharing
I'm sorry you're dealing with it too. But you're welcome for the share.
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