You’re in a crowded bus, a lively wedding, a meeting with a roomful of people, and all you can think about is this invisible wall that somehow differentiates you from everyone else, that I’m sick, even if I am trying to get better, I still have to deal with the cracks everyday.
I’m glad to know that you’ve begun. The feeling of isolation won’t fade away quickly. It probably won’t fade away completely. It might rear its ugly head from time to time. But watch out in the future for this brief burst of empathy, of understanding that in a crowd of disparate strangers, there is a common humanity shared. Some of them with decidedly more prosaic lives than others, but each one with a capacity to feel and to think and to dream. And someday you will be able to experience joy without any regret, or shame, or fear. Just barefaced quiet joy without frills, an experience that you have to understand that you deserve. So that even in the midst of the onrushing crowd, you’ll sit there quiet and watchful, and accept the solitary company that you keep, peaceful with what you are, imperfect and fearful yet fighting. Eventually, you’ll be able to appreciate the energy that animates us all, and revel in it.
You’ve progressed from just hanging on, to digging in and working on it. That’s what I think.