Life can either be a vacation or a destination, depending on which path your mind allows the writ of passage.
Certain days can feel comparable to Heaven on earth & others, the walking dead.
The trip does not rest in power or lack there of, but still extremely important.
But after all, who controls your show?
Even though the decision is ultimately yours, who or what is transporting you to the destination?
To stare blankly in the face of a man that has been the closest life form to a blood brother that I have never had...
Witnessing an out of body experience to a vessel belonging to someone I love:
To others , would probably be terrifying.
Some would say heart breaking.
Personally, it was so real and surreal at once.
To externally stand witness to my skeletons from four years ago, through another life form is something that I never believed could have been transcribed.
Here goes nothing,
“Hello my name is _____, and I am not an addict or a criminal. However, I know what being locked away feels like.”
In what felt like captivity, the privilege to my feelings became revoked until proven capable to do so.
Regardless of what I thought I felt, it was the wrong answer.
A simpler, more universally understood perspective:
What if you expressed that you were having a bad day and were not feeling up to discussing details?
What if shutting off your phone for the night was your idea of a “break?”
What if you were told that sparing details of a day from emotional Hell warranted warning signs of suicide watch?
Would the idea of institutional medical care be the first choice in recovery?
Well, what do we do now?
Where would you begin?
Empathy hits differently when it is relative.
Let me throw away my own key.
My mind will not be gone for long.
-t
