Member-only story
Saturday, I Got This
I Am Sorry for Being Who I Am
Saturday. I woke up, had breakfast, and casually browsed Medium. I ended up on a story by , mentioned at the end of this story, below ’s. It triggered what wasn’t supposed to be triggered on a peaceful Saturday morning.
I realised how I’ve never been heard, understood, or empathised with. Remember, I said empathy, not sympathy, and yes, they’re different.
I know, I acknowledge that mental health is fucked up and (maybe) no two human being have similar mental health. Everyone is different, and so is their mental health. So, it is difficult for one person to understand someone entirely.
Please, I am not blaming you if you don’t get me, maybe I don’t get your mental state either, but all my life, I have just wished for someone I could find who could be my confidante.
All my life, I have struggled with a vulnerability in my life — my weakness — dependence. I have always been this person who cannot survive without her dependence.
At first, my parents, and then I, moved out for studies and started searching for that dependence source in others, at some point some partners, and eventually my best friend. I tried for 7–8 years to make her my confidante, but I gave up in the end.
