I feel as though I am folding in on myself, choosing myself for company and comfort more and more.

I do have my family and spouse and ever since my friend moved in with us I have felt little to no need to leave the house for companionship.

She, like me, lives in a body with designs on a difficult existence and I find the comfort of sharing life with someone who really gets it so fulfilling I fear my inner goblin has begun to take me over.

It’s just hard, you see.

Hard to live each day in a body that simply never lets you forget that you are supremely fucked.

I never feel good. I haven’t felt good in over 13 years.

I feel less bad sometimes.

I have amazing experiences that push the less bad into the background sometimes.

I’m really good at giving the appearance of doing pretty damn ok.

But I hurt. Somewhere. A lot. All the time.

I’m even improving and getting off medications and having wins and I’m still hurting all the time. Just, less.

SO yeah. It’s really hard to carry all that around all the time and then go somewhere with people who love you and NOT just dump it on them every single time you see them.

So I don’t. I talk about ANYTHING else.

Then I feel like I am not talking about the thing that most impacts my life and that nobody really knows me anymore.

Then I feel like who could really want to know me when what I have to talk about is just hurting all the time?

So I fold in on myself. I choose my own company.

I choose my own comfort.