Loneliness isn’t limited to being alone. It transcends to a form where even though you are surrounded by everyone you want to be surrounded by, you still feel utterly alone. Loneliness is not the physical manifestations of people but the mental manifestation of us in their minds. If we are not in their minds when they are around us, we feel lonely nonetheless.
Talking about something you feel, something that is eating you raw takes time. It’s like opening up a chocolate. The label comes first, the wrapper and then the sweetness you await. Here the sweetness is replaced with an illness. An illness of your mind.
This illness is a twisted entity. It is an evil twin of your consciousness. Once it takes over, you are doomed. So you try to get help but the help doesn’t arrive because of your indirect messages and the outlook you give that, “I am fine”.
You are not fine, you are far removed from the feeling of being fine. Fine is just a word for you to not think about not being fine. Fine is just a sound that silences the illness for a while, it is all just a coping mechanism to fool the illness into believing it does not exist but it exists and it cannot be fooled. So it persists and prepares and sits still with knives and fork to feast on you when you’re exhausted from this fight to fool.
This illness has no physical form of sign or symbology that others can deduce in their seemingly intelligent minds. They don’t get to show their mark of intelligence to ask you “oh you look pale, is everything “fine”?” This illness is a shapeless blur, the reason why you are so fascinated by this word. Shapeless blur, something that only you can understand but not in a language that promotes communication. You understand in a spiritual sense, as an intuition or a feeling that only you understand.
The illness is stealthy like shapes of clouds that seem to move, a move that is only visible when you are not looking at it for a long time, then you look again. The illness is unbeatable because it is you. This is why you want pain because you feel pain will defeat you and in turn defeat the illness. You embellish yourself not with medals but with the humiliation of the highest order thinking stupidly that it will make it go away, but it only makes it stronger.
Everyone you go for help though is fighting their own battles. Battles that are wars to them and wars that in the moment can quite possibly end them. The battle they face ends in a week or two. But the illness in your mind has made your house a home for itself. It’s like the nose between your eyes. Until you focus on its existence in your field of vision, it doesn’t really bother you.
So, you arrive at the conclusion. No one will help you with this. Because it is not a physical injury that everyone can see and empathise with. It comes with full force once in a while and once it subsides everyone forgets about it because no one knows how to handle it. They are ignorant of the fact that it exists in your mind 24 hours a day. That the illness causes you to think that by calling for help, you are bothering your loved ones and changing their lives. The illness is you in disguise, all your normalcy, all your madness, all your love, all your obsessiveness, all your anxiety and all your respite.
It changes form more than it changes purpose because its purpose is only one. To defeat you bit by bit, neuron by neuron, battle by battle and day by day until you are all but nothing.