Can he tell? Can he tell that I’m faking it?
Happiness, I mean. The laughter is real. The feeling behind it is not. Can he tell? Can others?
I feel so empty, a shell of who I’m supposed to be, of who I once was, my soul so bland, dull, dry, and tasteless. I am, again, uncomfortably numb.
Lamenting about being stable seems hypocritical. Isn’t that what I want? Isn’t that what I need? Is it? If it makes me not me, makes me unable to feel?
I miss the genuine laugh I’d have when my daughter tells a silly joke. I miss the genuine tear that I’d cry from the heartache of loss. I miss the genuine pain I’d feel from stumping my toe. I miss the genuine feeling of happiness I’d get on a beautiful day like today. I miss the genuine anger I’d experience from my husband losing his job, again. I miss the genuine joy I’d have of seeing my babies love on each other. Instead, I’m immersed in apathy.
What have I done to myself? This wretched illness has robbed me of so much that is precious in life. Now the medication that’s supposed to help heal me is stealing from me instead. Stealing my hopes and dreams. Consuming my spirit. Making me a robot.
I laugh on cue.
Can you tell? Can you tell that I’m faking it?
(March 1, 2016 – twins 20 months, Mica 7, Hope 6)
Epiphany Quote: “See, this is why I stop taking my medication. I’m not Belle. I’m a shell.” Thinking: “I’m Michelle” – Me to my therapist
Bible Verse: Let me hear joy and gladness; let the bones that you have broken rejoice. Hide your face from my sins, and blot out all my iniquities. Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me. Psalm 51:8-10
Word that has Lost its meaning: feelings
Relatable Lyrics: Comfortably Numb by Pink Floyd
“…I can’t explain, you would not understand, this is not how I am.”