that missing piece

The plain frightening truth in my life, is that no one truly cares, I never try to get sympathy, I never play the old woe is me card

This blog holds my inner thoughts that I don’t share, its like a diary that’s been left out, an someone may just happen to come across it

My family is like a puzzle, the pieces don’t go together, but are forced to fit, and we seem to accept that, when from an outsiders point of view, or when I face the truth of it, I don’t know what holds it together, convenience an circumstance

Each individual life, revolves around itself, caught in a type of daydream that is self involved

I admit I’m guilty of it too, in my case, I have so much going on, in regards to my illness, that there isn’t room for anyone else’s, not through being selfish, just a realisation of the truth

Talking to a mental health professional, is just a stranger with a degree, a tablet is just a mask for a while for something we can’t cope with alone

Therefore is a tablet a better saviour than family, a friend, or the mental health team, a little helper that tries its best, tries to do what it promised, and never judges

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