Displaced

I’m sick of the want; I’m sick of my sensitivity and point-of-view, especially when it changes. I’m sick of feeling patronized and I’m sick of not being able to keep the tears out of my voice. It makes me sound weak and weakens the argument that my points are valid. And you think that you know all about it and you have figured it out in me and how could you? Forget the fact that you have no idea how it feel, you can’t get inside my mind and thoughts and know for sure what I’m thinking. I don’t need you to act like my mother or know-it-all. Try a hug, just try it. Try not ditching me to “leave me alone to work through it” You don’t have to work out everything I’m feeling when you’re around me and make it all better. Try a movie or coffee try getting my mind off of it. You roll your eyes when I try to explain it and if you keep doing it there will be a day that you will not get through to me anymore. I won’t let you in. I’m sick of the expectations that follow; you will not follow through on plans because of circumstances out of your control, fine, I hate that I expect you to bail on your plans. I’m sick of your running and my running and.

What have you learned from me about this? To get away as fast as you can or to not bother to talk to me until I take my meds? Do you understand that ANY isolation hurts me, ANY! What differences are there in me that you see and do you believe it’s really me? That’s the thing, I have no idea. I’m treated like a moron, you talk slower so I can “understand” and the frustrating thing is you think your helping. Just be there, that’s all. Someone to be there.

NOT to solve all my problems

NOT to help me recover

NOT to make it all better until it happens again

Hug me, sit down next to me, flash a smile at me, and ask if there is anything I want to get off me chest.

I am not a CHILD!

I can see myself resenting you so easily if this doesn’t stop and it’s possible that I will never bring it up.

It’s raining. How appropriate.