I live my life separated from the only world that interests me. A world that is so different from the one I inhabit. To anyone else these worlds are one in the same, but they do not know that my world is dead while their world is alive. Instead of being stark their world is vibrant; instead of being monotonous it is exciting; instead of being simple it is complex; instead of being boring it is engaging. There is always something exciting happening in their world. Everyday seems to bring something new to the people that inhabit this world, but everyday in my world passes with nothing more than the last because my world has no more to give me. When these worlds are looked at from my perspective they do not have one thing in common.
It is not that I do not exist or that I am invisible, although I might as well be. They pass me just as they pass a piece of furniture that they have seen a thousand times before or a plastic bag floating down a crowded city street. At one time I might have drawn their attention, but I have become nothing to them. In some ways I am happy that their interest in me is gone because it was never more than a simple curiosity. They seemed to probe and examine me like I was on an emergency room table. They seemed to point and comment on my actions like I was an exotic animal at the zoo. Never were they interested in who I actually was at the core, for they only saw the outside and the differences that caused their rapt curiosity. Never did they involve me in the games they play or in the lives they live.
I watch as these people live there lives separate from mine. They play, but I can not join their games. They laugh, but I feel no laughter welling up inside of me. They embrace each other, but not me -- for I do not belong close to their hearts. Each and everyday is an adventure for these people and they live life like each day is a gift and each moment is to be cherished forever, together. Life for them is not a lonely curse like it is for me. How I wish I belonged in their world and not my own.
If I could I would leave my world. I would trade my boredom for their excitement and my depression for their liveliness. But, alas I can not. It is hard to explain what stops me from joining in on the life I wish to live. Inside of me there is something that holds me back. It is a sense that I am different from them; that we are not the same, but different beings entirely. On the outside there is something like an invisible force field around me that limits where I can go and what I could do. It is this field that bothers me the most because it would physically stop me from getting what I want most even if I was psychologically ready. I have a name for this field; I call it my fish bowl.