My Pain is Real, and it is My Muse
Despite the fact that my pain remains hidden, it strangely serves as a source of inspiration for my creative pursuits. It has frequently acted as the catalyst for my most successful work.
I find it difficult to conceal the profound sadness that is within me. Even when I put on a smile, the anguish never disappears. I make an effort to persevere, but it feels like I am drowning in my own tears. It’s as if I’m alive yet dying at the same time — a dichotomy. If only someone could see the true me beyond the façade of happiness I portray. But for now, I will continue wearing a mask, hoping the sorrow will eventually fade away.
I may appear calm on the outside, but you are not aware of the trauma that I have experienced. I may seem happy, but behind my smile are pain and tears. Although I express love, you cannot see the torment that I endure or all the sleepless nights that I have.
Disassociation is crippling. At times I feel as though I’m stuck to the ceiling, watching what the other body is going through. But that body happens to be the body I inhabited, but not really because I’m numb, and it seems like it’s happening to someone else. The noise in my ears is deafening, but there isn’t any noise to hear.
