Gemotions

The support group meeting was a disaster. It was as though everyone was competing for the title of "most afflicted". I wanted to scream. I felt like I was being judged as much as I was judging the others.

Each story, each lament, was a reminder of my own limitations. My own failings. Across the circle, a man with a haunted look was speaking about the limitations, the social isolation. He described the constant fear, the feeling of always being on the edge.

Our shared condition was the bond, the invisible anchor that held us together in the sea of normality. As his gaze met mine, I understood. We were both shipwrecked. The weight of his eyes, the shared pain, made the room feel like a suffocating cage.