There are moments when nothing really collapses.
Nothing super dramatic happens.
There’s no crisis, no chaos, not a single clear reason.

And still, you start to disappear.

Not from people… but from yourself.
You talk. You reply. You move from place A to place B. Everything looks just fine from the outside. But inside, something starts to fade. Quietly. Almost without you noticing. And trust me, i know what it feels like to disappear, piece by piece.

That’s what makes it so damn dangerous.
Because no one ever asks.
And you don’t really know how to ask yourself either.

When someone breaks down visibly, people react, and start to worry.
When someone disappears quietly, it’s seen as coping, and people just pat you on your shoulder.

You learn to say “I’m fine.”
You learn to get things done by yourself.
You learn to be easy, so you won’t become a burden to anyone else, because that would feel embarrassing.

And at the same time, you learn not to say that every day feels a little lighter, not in a good way, but in a way where you’re less and less present in YOUR own life.

The worst part isn’t the pain.
It’s getting used to it. It’s just horrible.

Getting used to the fact that nothing really feels like anything anymore.
That good things pass by without even touching you.
That bad things don’t even surprise you anymore.

And then someone asks how you’re doing.
You think for a second that feels like ages, and still answer briefly.
Because where the heck would you even start?
How do you explain disappearing when it leaves no visible marks? You can’t.

I came close to passing myself by completely.
And maybe writing is a way to stop that?
To draw a line there and tell myself that I’m still here.

You’re not alone! even if it feels like you are.

Sometimes the worst thing isn’t that it hurts too much.
It’s that it hurts too little. Yes, it may sound weird, but it’s completely true.

And trust me, i know that this text may feel heavy, well that’s because it simply is.
But please, just remember, sometimes the heaviest thing is the only thing that keeps us awake.