Finding The Words

Sometimes, I find it really difficult to find the words that I need to express myself. It’s almost painful, because I know what I mean, but to put that into a format that another person can understand feels impossible.

Even when I eventually find the words, I can often struggle to say them out loud. It’s something that I’ve been getting better at, as I’m now more able to detach myself, and to pretend it’s not me, and it’s not here, and not now. I’m improving, but sometimes it’s just too hard to find those words. My heart is screaming but my head just can’t get all the muscles to coordinate.

What do I fear? I’m not so sure. Perhaps it’s the fear of being wrong, which nearly always leads to failure. Maybe I’m afraid of being judged, and loosing those who care the most. It could quite easily be something completely different.

I’m not good with words, but I am good with images. Maybe you can’t understand my scribbly drawing, but I can, and I can tell you what it means, because that takes the focus away from me. I don’t want people to be focused on me, it’s just too hard.

Even as I write this now, it’s disjointed, and it doesn’t really have a point. I guess what I’m trying to say is all the things I’m feeling right now about lots of different things don’t make sense to anyone else. People tell me time and time again that they can’t understand until I talk to them, but what they don’t understand is that I can’t talk. It’s the talking that’s the issue.

Colours, shapes, flashes, and darkness. I don’t hear bad news and think ‘I feel upset’, I see it as a pattern in my brain. That’s hard for other people to understand. My emotions and what I see change so much, and that is why I am so obsessed with order. If the world around me is regulated and predictable, I can cope with the mess that is my brain. I have more time to interpret myself, and understand what I see in the context in which I have been taught: the context of words of course.

Finding the words is hard, but I’m learning. I have a good person to teach me, and perhaps one day, I’ll be standing up in front of hundreds of people, just like my lecturers at university. We can hope. We can dream.

Living. Laughing. Loving.



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