Everyone keeps asking how I'm doing and I tell them I'm fine. Which I am. But I shouldn't be really.
After months of being closely involved in my uncle's life and death I should be feeling something. But I'm not. It's my pills you see. They keep me happy. Or if not happy at least stable.
Perhaps I should stop taking them for a while so I can show people that I'm not a cold emotionless human being. I stopped while I was in hospital (because I forgot to take them in with me) and I found myself in tears at the most innocuous sentences in my romantic novel. Perhaps that what I need to do now. Let myself cry.
But is feeling necessary? I can't go back to where I was before I began taking my happy pills where I had slipped into a half life ruled by anxiety. I won't go back there.
Is it so bad to not cry? To not demonstrate emotion? Does it mean I don't care? I don't even know the answer to that.