Allowance

I am sorry you will have to make allowances for me. It seems that the times when I request that come more and more frequently. I withdraw and people think I am being rude or at least the ones who don’t know me.

It is easy to ask others to make allowances. It is hard for me to grant to me the same tolerance. I wonder why am I so apathetic? Why don’t I have any energy? What good is an excuse if it doesn’t make you feel better.

I go to sleep each evening hoping that I will sleep at least twelve hours so I only have another twelve hours to tolerate till sleep comes my way again.

Creativity? What is that?

Joy? What is that?

Sadness? What is that?

All I know is this dull stupor that floats above the fear that makes my heart seem to beat extra loud. And I have no excuse. I make no allowances or grant me tolerance because I am ill. It is hard to explain to people that you are ill but it is not physical. I have mostly quit trying to explain but when in the deep well where affect is only an affectation I find myself wanting someone to understand even if it is just me.