Something about some of us is just too much for most people. It’s sensible, rarely spoken.
We can get close because there is spirit to us that most see. A mesmerizing light that shines with warmth. A cultivated facade, faux confidence, anxious affability, self-deprecating protagonist.
Yet, when you are closer, you see us differently. See the darkened void that exists behind the spirited light. A sad space, haven from happy, a slipshod construction made of mistakes and delusions.
Some feel trepidation at the bleak, shadowed dark, devoid of warmth. Some others fear its presence, never having felt it or having felt it too closely before. Some harm—feeling burned by the bright or fearing caught in the cold.
Something about being both so outwardly vulnerable and so ‘high-functioning’ is just too much for most people. It’s stigma, rejection unspoken.