I feel great sadness and anxiety when I need to go outside, because I’m terrified of seeing couples.
I feel visceral, physical pain when I see a man and a woman holding hands. It feels like a hot needle pushed straight into a nerve I didn’t know I had. I see him lean in to whisper something that makes her laugh. My stomach twists into a knot, my chest physically aches. I have to stop walking.
I feel like a failed artist in a gallery looking at the successful art of other artists. I am forced to stand there and look at their works.
It gets worse.
I can be starving, on my way home thinking about the food I’ve been craving for hours. I’ll see a couple, now hunger is replaced by nausea. The idea of eating anything now feels disgusting and absurd. How can I consume when I am being consumed by this?
I can be walking home looking forward to indulge in a cope, feeling a flicker of happiness. I’ll pass a couple, now my drive evaporates. What’s the point? My fists clench. I just feel like turning around and walking in the opposite direction and never stopping.
The park, the streets, it all feels like a minefield. I find myself scanning ahead like they're threats, looking for the shape of two people connected. My body tenses in anticipation of the punch I know is coming. It’s a form of torture, and I am both the victim and the warden.
I don’t know how to fix this. “Just don’t look” is impossible. “Just ignore it” is a cope. The pain is instant and automatic. My own biology is torturing me.
I feel visceral, physical pain when I see a man and a woman holding hands. It feels like a hot needle pushed straight into a nerve I didn’t know I had. I see him lean in to whisper something that makes her laugh. My stomach twists into a knot, my chest physically aches. I have to stop walking.
I feel like a failed artist in a gallery looking at the successful art of other artists. I am forced to stand there and look at their works.
It gets worse.
I can be starving, on my way home thinking about the food I’ve been craving for hours. I’ll see a couple, now hunger is replaced by nausea. The idea of eating anything now feels disgusting and absurd. How can I consume when I am being consumed by this?
I can be walking home looking forward to indulge in a cope, feeling a flicker of happiness. I’ll pass a couple, now my drive evaporates. What’s the point? My fists clench. I just feel like turning around and walking in the opposite direction and never stopping.
The park, the streets, it all feels like a minefield. I find myself scanning ahead like they're threats, looking for the shape of two people connected. My body tenses in anticipation of the punch I know is coming. It’s a form of torture, and I am both the victim and the warden.
I don’t know how to fix this. “Just don’t look” is impossible. “Just ignore it” is a cope. The pain is instant and automatic. My own biology is torturing me.
