共感で繋がるSNS
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怨嗟
I know my high school teacher and counselor are helping me. But somehow, that kindness hurts.
It was too gentle for me—so kind that it made my chest ache.
When they treated me kindly, it felt like something got stuck in my throat.
That kindness was like a lethal dose of love.
I had never experienced anything like that before.
A long time ago, I was hurt deeply. That pain still lives inside me.
Even now, I can’t fully accept my painful past.
It’s what causes my dissociative amnesia.
I’m afraid of my own childhood.
They tried to help me—but I wasn’t saved.
Maybe it was too late.
I’m still alive, but it feels like being dead.
Dying seems easier—it almost feels more alive to me.
Now, maybe I do have them.
But that only throws into sharper relief the loneliness I lived with for so long.
The contrast pierces my heart.
May the pain ease someday, even if life doesn’t have to go on with it.
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