Once or twice or a hundred times, every day, I forget.
It's a self-defense activity. My mind knows that, alone and unarmed as it is, it cannot withstand the constant onslaught. So, it does what it can do. What it must do. It retreats. It runs and cowers beneath the rubble of destroyed dreams. It hides from reality.
During those times, I can almost pass for a normal person. Unless you look too closely into my eyes, or let your gaze linger on my face for too long, or ask me a question.
It always me pisses me off, when people ask me if I'm okay, or how I'm doing. Sometimes, people even ask me what's wrong, or if they can help. All those same questions over and over, and always the same answers.
The truth is not always in my words, but the truth is always there. The truth always forces my mind out of its hiding place, out into the open.
Once or twice or a hundred times, every single fucking day, I remember all over again.