Life

I am stuck, I know not what to do, nor how to deal with it, nor how to live. People will tell me all that I know, all that I have heard before, all that I am currently able to comprehend. But just how much can it mean? My whole life, spent in and out of numerous 'professionals' offices, whilst I complained of the same ailments that needn't concern you... All the while being pressured by my parents, the very ones who love me and cherish me as they do all my siblings, to be better than the rest because they deemed it so, not for any other reason than that. The illness which plagued me then, plagues me still, I have found no reprieve. The religious will say that no one is ever given more than they can handle, those who aren't sure themselves will say no matter what you believe as long as you have something to hold on to, then your obligation is to that thing, whatever it is, you are then obligated to hold onto that thing, those who are not religious will say that it is up to us to deal with whatever comes our way, some hack it, others weave clothing with it, you just have to find your way and those who have lost their way demand small change from my pockets for their next high. I know these are very general terms and don't give those few trying to help any real credit, but they refuse to read my words and continue to wonder what the problem is. It doesn't matter, they try, I know I don't make things easy but in what I believe to be plain english they know what ails me. That doesn't matter, they tried and I am thankful for their attempts. I'm quite good at making things difficult for people even myself. I have had no real emotions of my own on a side note... I will talk with someone, or rather they will talk to me and I'll listen, and I will feel with them what they have gone through... Apart from this persistent problem of mine I've made it through this lifetime almost free from what I shall call trivialities. I guess there is something about the troubles and woe of another. I have not felt my own happiness bud and grow, nor sadness, or love, responsibility etc. It was to the point where I questioned my capacity to feel for myself, or would I forever need someone else to talk at me to get my emotional needs as a human being. That's still not something I'm quite sure I can accept yet, despite the apparent foolishness behind such a claim... Oh well. What am I but a flawed human, just like the rest of you, just like the rest of us. I should take some time out to explain just what this particular post is about, but in the end you'll never read this far down... Content to label me a lost cause, or as something more to the point you just close, or move on. That's fine with me. What a beautiful wall of text. Sorry about that. Your choice. This post is more for me than it is for you. I know how to make others feel good, others feel bad, it all meant so very little, it was all just one experiment after another... until recently. Until recently I knew nothing of this virtual world, internet, networking or social sites, google was a mathematical term, facebook was someone's interpreted version of a photo album, and my space is in my room just a few metres away from where I sit now. The only letters I wrote were in my hand writing, and stamped with a stamp. Until recently my most current friends knew nothing of the true troubles behind my smile, or rather they learned of the facade of who I was. I thought I needn't concern them with my troubles, that is until I made landfall once again. On that boat the air was so clean and the water so clear, they were nothing but small itches at the back of my mind. I was able to be myself without my problems, for those eleven days, I was peaceable, they would even go so far as to call me a good person, enjoyable to be around. How quickly my problems came back to haunt me, how quickly was my freedom forgotten. They were surprised when I asked for help, and it isn't from a lack of trying of course that they failed. Nothing to be ashamed of, this countries best have failed me, repeatedly. Part of me had hoped that there would be something, any form of relief in talking to these new people, all so singularly strong and when put together forming a social structure I have not known to exist. But no, my troubles continue to plague me and I am still here very much alive.