Thursday, February 7, 2013


A few months ago, while on a visit to my psychologist, she asked me a question.
“Do you ever feel like there is something broken inside of you? That you just don’t work the same as everyone else?”
I sat there for a moment, unable to respond. Those words summed up my feelings for the past five or so years. I have always felt that something in my brain just didn’t tick right. Somewhere inside of my mind, a gear was rusty and was not turning properly.
When she asked me that, I fought back tears. Every time I go to her office, I know that I’ll tear up. She always seems to put into words the things that I cannot find an adequate way to describe.
“Yes,” I told her.

I am an introvert. I enjoy alone time. I can spend hours thinking. But I do not like being around people for long periods of time.
I know that my friends don’t always understand this about me and it makes me sad. I wish that I didn’t have to bail out of things for the sake of preserving my sanity. I wish that I operated the same as everyone else.
And then again, I don’t.
I am glad that I do not look at things in the same light as everyone else. If I did not need to eat, drink, or sleep, I could spend a month inside my head without ever being bored a single time.
The stars alone amaze me. The grass after a rain makes me smile. In the simplest corners of life, I find meaning that is so often looked over. Maybe I have a poet’s soul.

But with all of the blessings, whatever sort of insanity I have is also a curse.
I lash out at the ones I love too often because I am angry with myself over things that they have no control over. I forget too easily that my mother and father and brother cannot see the inner turmoil taking place inside my mind.
Even now that I take medication for my anxiety, I sometimes still feel that nagging weight that sits like a rock on my heart. The medicine has helped me tremendously, but I understand that a pill can never fully patch the broken places in my brain. 

I don’t want people to feel bad for me. This is just another sort of lifestyle.
Maybe I am broken, but I’m fine that way.

Peace, love, and understanding yourself,