This journey is a lonely one.
Mental illness, no matter how well concealed, is a very lonely battle.
I cannot help but contemplate this a great deal this evening. I have so very many things on my mind and yet I find myself without a soul within which to confide completely. Whether this is a self-imposed solitude or a natural by-product of the 'nature of the beast' I have yet to determine.
Whatever the cause, its effects are undeniable.
I feel so very very alone in this world. People in which I used to confide are beyond my reach, people who seem close now still remain at a distance. There are those that claim friendship but who have no wish to be weighed upon by the struggles of others. There are those that might be close were it not for the wall that I defend so well in the interest of not burdening them with troubles not their own.
Whatever the combination of factors, the seeming finality of 'truth' is unwavering.
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