by Rie

If only feeling less lonely were a panacea.

Like, feeling together with someone in a similar situation should make you feel happier, should give you strength to crawl out together.

Nope.

Take this quote, from ‘Just One Day’ by Gayle Forman.

“I don’t know who I am. Or maybe I do know who I am and I just don’t want to be her anymore.”

Now, I completely identify with this quote. If you know me, you’d know that I’m self-deprecating in every single way. A day from now, I will probably revisit this blog post and cringe all over. (It’s as if I’m waiting for my writing to be touched by a real writer; it’s not going to happen.)

But even as some things said help, some things unsaid help, too.

I imagine a very stilted conversation following such a moment of self-realisation. What do you say when someone doesn’t want to be themselves? It’d be easy if they were screwed up in some tangible way because tangible fixes are easy to prescribe.

“Change your glasses.”

“Okay.”

But I suppose the tangible fixes are a sign of the internal fixes. The internal tends to work its way out that way. Or maybe the visible changes lie about the invisible current – new dress, new mind?

Which reminds me that I am awful at shopping. I tried. I really did. Online, even. Like young people.

Full circle, yet again: even if I said this out loud, would a person identifying with my fashion pain help me become any better?

Probably not. It’s a good thing, I guess, that my mind is so noisy.

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