We’re Not Allowed to Feel

But we are allowed to be distracted.

I couldn’t stay awake any longer. My body collapsed and I fell into a deep long sleep. I unfortunately woke up to the him coming home, paying no heed to me and exiting the room. A feeling of dread like a dark cloud came over me and enveloped the whole room. And it didn’t leave even after he was gone. It stuck around. It was like him showing up with a reminder, “I’m still around. This is your life. You can’t escape.” It seems I only find peace when I forget.

I felt a need to have somewhere I could rest my head in peace. And someone who could be caring towards me. To ease away the pain in my throat that comes when I’m reminded of him.

I wish I could ship myself off somewhere, somewhere safe.

I wish I could be loved. I know love is only reserved for the select few.

I’m so ready to give up on my situation because I can feel now. He doesn’t like it when I feel. He likes a girl who doesn’t feel.

Everyone likes a girl who doesn’t feel.

I think of contacting my so-called mother but a feeling of dread comes over me. Yes, more dread. Where are the kind people in the world who don’t make you feel dread? Where is the compassion, the love, the kindness? It doesn’t exist. It doesn’t benefit people to be kind. Why would they do it?

What people want to do is treat you bad.

You’re not allowed to feel these overpowering feelings that you feel. These feelings that won’t go away, not in the situation you’re in, but your situation isn’t going to change.

Heaven.

You always dream of a heaven. A place that’s pleasant to be. Where all these bad things are minimized.

He is hell.

It’s weird because you’re not allowed to feel. Your feelings were always considered illegitimate. That’s what depression is for. It’s a word that explains that your feelings are illegitimate. Have feelings? Ignore them. No one likes them. And no one’s going to help you. No one’s going to offer you comfort or aid. So, why feel? It never ends. The heavy shadow of dread will always follow him and settle on you and your possessions. There’s always things you can do to stress yourself out so you don’t feel. So do those.

That’s what he wants.

Because you’re such a nuisance.

You should consider yourself lucky. Everyone says you’re lucky. That you’re so ungrateful. That you should stop complaining.

Stop feeling.

Because there’s something wrong with you if you feel.

Well, there’s an easy fix for that.

It’s something you can dread only if you can still feel. Once you stop feeling, you’ll stop dreading, see?

He saw you, unloved and cold. And he knew that being used was the closest thing you’d ever feel to love. So he proceeded to use you. No guilt. No shame. Because he couldn’t feel either. And you were supposed to be grateful for being used. After all, isn’t being used the closest you’d ever feel to love? So aren’t you lucky. You lucky, lucky girl! Someone like you should be so lucky for this!

He has no shame.

And no one else cares about you.

He tosses out your possessions, but other times shows he cares as if he’s a born-again Christian.

But you know him by now.

Can’t be bothered. He can’t be bothered. And he can’t be erased. Memories of him can’t be erased.

Oh, it’s just her depression.

Paralyzed by the coldness and lack of compassion in the world. Paralyzed so that I don’t know where to cold. Go out into the cold or inhale the fumes of the toxic coal stove?

We’re not supposed to feel. And we’re not supposed to be tired. You bad, bad girl. Bad, bad bad bad. How selfish are you? People are a myth, anyway. No one’s going to love you. So what’s the point?

You’re not allowed to feel. You have to learn to feel less. Tame yourself.

Where are you going to go?

You can’t escape this.

Published by illnessislife

Sick of being so sick I can't live life. But it's been so long like this that I accept it. Illness is life. I have no other life.

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