And I want to tell you so many things. I want to tell you that life will never be perfect. I want to tell you that no human being will ever be perfect. I want to tell you that sometimes the loneliness will come back, even once you think you’ve finally shaken it. I want to tell you that bad things…
I remember the blood and broken bones from where your wings were torn off. I remember your cries, the look in your eyes pleading for help. I remember the hands of Michael gripping my arm, keeping me from rushing to your aid.
Now, I sit down beside the pool that looks into your world. I wonder if heaven really was worth you.
“Because it does hurt to have anxiety in a way that I’m not sure other disorders completely encompass. Because anxiety is the secret disease, one that often even if we want to, we couldn’t tell someone, ask for help, ask for them to care. And that is a terribly lonely experience- suffering every day and being the only one who knows it.”—‘The Black Bath’- stephanieproject.blogspot.com (via anxietycat)