Your heart is still beating. Lungs still taking in air. This is what I tell myself on days like today. Despite not wanting them to, my organs keep functioning, my stomach growls when it wants food, and I yawn when I’m tired.
I don’t understand how your body continues living when your soul feels like it’s dying.
I have friends who have been born and raised in prosperity and have never known half the terrors as I’ve experienced in my life. They do not know what it’s like to live in a world in which you will your heart to stop. I do not begrudge their happiness, nor do I wish away their good fortune; however, I can never stop myself from the bitterness that seeps in when it is night and darkness surrounds my being.
Perhaps these feelings stem from my DLIs (probably), but regardless, mentally I’m suffering. These friends mistakenly believe they know the depths of human hearts when in reality, they have no genuine compassion for the suffering. Granted, they do recognize and develop some form of sympathy, as in they care for the general plight of humanity, but they cannot comprehend the individual condition, thus they can have no real sympathy.
I wish I had that ignorant apathy towards my fellow cross-bearers.