The feeling I sometimes describe as “floaty” – like being
apart from, not a part of. Not like I want to belong, or feel left out, but
probably both of those, on some level. Who wants to be a grown-up throwing a
pity party? Who wants to admit that not caring how others act isn’t really that
easy after all?
Yes, my back still hurts. No, there’s nothing real wrong.
Sure, I’ll do this and that and some other thing for you and
you and you – and thank you so much for asking. As if saying no were a crime.
The fear of being useless. The sense that what I offer is patience and saying
yes. Repeatedly.
What would Someone Else do? Words never to live by.
What Would A Better Me Do?
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