Some people can ask me why I cannot be normal like others. I know that there are those who are sacrificing for me to live a happy life. But my mind is very retarded, paralyzed and comatized. I want to mention that I do not consider myself as someone special and who alone has this malady. You may think that this is an exaggeration but I once even told my counselor with all sincerity that I was not sure of us even talking to each other. I have broken window glasses hurting my hands to prove to my psychiatrist my problem, slit the hands with the blade so that my mom will understand my pain, stripped fully naked before her to get a full protective armour (hearing the story of Duryodhana's vulnerability in the Mahabharatha war), taken sleeping-pills to kill myself, crept to the terrace only to hesitate to jump from there and many other things.
People think that I live a comfortable life. And I don't blame them for thinking like that because they do their best to make me happy. And when I don't reciprocate, they think I'm ungrateful and feel sad that their efforts have gone waste. My way of showing gentleness, unconditional love and kindness is by not letting them see those dirty worlds that I deal with, both internally in my mind and externally out in the world. To give you an example, I prepare myself for any emergency in my mom's health which includes the decision as to when to unplug the life-supporting system. But my mom is not aware that I monitor her health in the back o my mind. She just thinks that I'm often in my blues. Again, I'm not saying that I'm the only one cleaning the dirty linen but I want you to understand that I try to clean some dirt that is around me.
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