Being lonely is the worst thing in the world.
That’s saying something, I think, because there’s a lot out there. There’s something to be said for having someone to talk to, for having someone you can trust. And it’s easiest if they can be there, physically, because otherwise even though they’re there, kind of, it doesn’t really feel like it. And that hurts, this feeling that you’re all alone. You’re surrounded by people who never seem to notice, never seem to care, never ask questions. You know, it’s funny, in a way–here we are, told that we should stand up for people who are bullied, people who are harassed, people who are victims of hate crimes, bias, and assault. And I agree. I agree to all of that. Bystander Syndrome is something that really needs to be stopped, and that’s where it starts, with standing up. But there’s more out there than violence. Sometimes, the thing that causes the pain is on the inside. It might start externally, but it’s on the inside where it really kills you, where it makes you feel like you don’t even exist.
Nobody wants to be invisible. That’s what happens, see, when nobody notices. When nobody asks you what’s wrong. When nobody bothers to stay long enough to hear the answer,
There’s this symptom of depression called derealization. It’s the feeling that the world is flat, that it’s gone all grey and colorless. The world isn’t real because it can’t be real, because you’ve gone all invisible and the world’s gone all grey and nobody notices. It’s turned into a world without you in it, where you can’t participate but you can observe. You can observe and wander listlessly in a world that feels like it’s turned to stone, completely and utterly alienated from those around you, simply because nobody noticed.
It starts to get to you, too. You start to wonder if you’re even yourself anymore, if you’re not just invisible but actually not anymore. You’ve gone past invisibility–you’re your own invisible friend, just a figment of your own imagination. Now not only is the world flat, but it’s like you’re stuck in a dream, as well. You’re no longer grounded, you’re just fighting to feel the floor under your feet, feet that you don’t even know you have anymore. Maybe you don’t have feet, maybe the world really doesn’t exist, maybe you don’t exist, maybe this is all a dream and one day soon you’ll wake up and the world won’t be flat and there will be color and people will NOTICE.
I don’t want to be invisible. I don’t want to float away.
But sometimes, I’m afraid that I won’t remember how to stop.