I’m sat cross legged on a squishy futon. As I brush ﬂuff from my trousers The woman opposite mirrors me. Expertly examining my face and body language for “tells”.
I smile inwardly whilst feeling that familiar catch in my throat and my chest tightening are about to betray my cool exterior.
I’m usually very good at this game.
Wearing a mask that totally shields my thoughts and feelings to the real world. It’s a practised art form. It’s taken more than a decade to skilfully hide in plain sight.
Reading down a list of thoughts feelings and activities, the lady looks intently at me. Kindly. Then she asks me the one question nobody ever has:
“Tell me how it feels to be you for a day“
A huge box of tissues is gently nudged towards me as she sees the ﬁrst silent tear roll down my face.
Damn. That woman is good.
@Swirlingfire, 30 March 2019
Written for the #WickedWednesday meme of “Mental Health”. Why not go check out the other posts by clicking on the button.