I have deep moments in my head at odd times. This was today's;

Sometimes I feel people don't truly realise the momentum of it. It's not an occasional thing, and no amount of laughter means you're happy. People find out, and they care at first but slowly -very slowly, it goes away. Because people do that -they forget about things that don't effect them. They don't feel it. It leaves them. But it doesn't leave us, and that's what people don't see. They don't see how we endure it. Because you can talk about it and write about it and cry to your therapist about how much it hurts. But no matter how much you do that and no matter how much you try, it doesn't make it go away.
At the end of the day, you're left with it. And the tears and the screaming and the talking at the internal begging for people to understand leaves you so hollow and finished. You're finished, and you want to make it finished too.

Slowly, I'm beginning to realise it. That others don't, and will maybe never understand. The professionals, they know the facts and the science but they don't know how it feels.
It kills.
It's killing me.

--Andria.