Everything seems like illusion.
Fiction holds more reality for me than life. Television shows and fims engage me and feel real - I can respond to them; they make me laugh and cry, they enable me to feel. Even playing a computer game holds more connection and reality for me than life.
The time I get to spend with G is too fleeting. The rest of the time it's like I don't exist.
Being on my own so much really isn't good for me.
I wish I had someone to tell this stuff to.
But you can't say these you things. not out loud.. not to people who love you. They will just be hurt, so you say nothing.
But how I am meant to resolve it if I don't ever talk about it, or admit it?
My inability to go out, to use the phone, to rarely be able to communicate more than a sentance online.. these things are real. They are limiting. They are things that much as I am striving to change, are something I can not ignore. Plus, as bad as these things are to live with, they come with an associated cost that just makes it even worse.
It costs me the people I love. Because they don't understand. They think I don't bother. That I haven't bothered. The fact that I have pushed beyond my limits to make as much contact as I have is meaningless. Because it's not enough. It never will be enough.
And I am irrelevent.
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