Endlessly looking at the lines in my hands. Working to conjure an answer. You aren't born knowing what to do when you are not okay. Where do you go when you need space to scream to? How do you problem solve when the problem is your mind and it is telling you that your efforts are wasted? Prayer only works if there is reception and you are in airplane mode. Stuck inside a disconnect of your design and unable to opt out.
And the worst part is that it is not all bad here. It is familiar. The closest thing to home when home is filled to the ceiling with expectations and there is not room for you. There are no expectations for you because you are not needed or wanted or even acknowledged. So, you stay in the room you built yourself. Surrounded by walls so large you feel as if they are falling in on you and you are falling into them at the same time. Implosions have opened caverns in the floor and you have to watch your step in case it all falls in. And you know that there is a ceiling. You know it is there, but it is so high up that you cannot see where its edges hold everything together and even looking for it makes you feel as if you have fallen into a dry well.
I've never had an answer.