encountered an error when I tried, so no editing, just going.
It is also pain. Excruciating pain. Teeth coming in.
It is also fear. I don't know if it's fear that I am pain, or fear of
revealing the pain, of embodying it, expressing it, being honest about
pain itself. That life is pain. Perhaps it is also the fear of living
pain as well. That my bearing witness to the pain inside, the hurt,
the wound at the center of my being... I'm deeply in pain. But that's
the wrong expression. I am deep pain.
That's what my apartment is saying. And I am afraid for anyone who
cares about me to see it. To take out the trash is to express that
pain, that suffering.
I want no one to feel sorry for me, because that plays into all the
means of expressing the lies that I am in no pain. And I express those
lies to protect them from the pain I feel. The last thing I want is
empathy. I don't even want them to bear witness to my pain. That would
be to trivialize it.
And I'm afraid if the apartment is clean, then I'll have no other way
of expressing it and I'll feel this pain all the time. It's stressful
to be in pain.
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