At 13 I put the mask on…just to see if it would fit.
At 18 It started to adhere to my skin. I couldn’t control it. There was madness.
At 21 I forgot it was on.
At 30 I realized I was wearing it but chose to ignore it.
At 35 The mask kept falling off.
At 40 I looked at the remnants of myself and felt like the diver I saw in the aquarium. He was swimming in his “water world” with mask, tank and fins. I stood on the other side with my hands against the glass unable to touch or be touched.
I feel more isolated everyday. Sometimes the air doesn’t even want to go into my lungs.
It was not my strength that kept me there, it was my weakness.
Now, it is not my weakness that keeps me here, it is all of my strength.
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