For those who close their hearts whenever they are told, 'You seem to be doing fine'

“You’re finally better, aren’t you?”
“You seem to be doing fine now, don’t you?”

Have you ever felt your face stiffen involuntarily
when someone says that to you?
I know they don’t mean any harm.
In fact,
I understand that they are saying it precisely because they were worried about me.
And yet,
every time I hear those words,
I quietly pull down the shutters of my heart,
thinking, “No one can see my true struggle.”

Today,
to you, who are standing still
in the gap between “outward recovery” and “inner pain,”
I am writing this like a letter, sharing my own experience.

The true loneliness that began after the cast came off

I once spent a long time “waiting” while working as a temporary employee, suddenly struck by asthma
and, on top of that, suffering from a broken ankle.

The most painful moment was when the cast on my leg was removed.
People around me showed relieved faces, saying, “That’s great” and “You can walk now.”
I think I looked like I had returned to being a “normal person” on the outside.

But inside, it was completely different.
There was a throbbing pain whenever I walked, and I am still afraid of going down stairs.
My asthma hadn’t disappeared completely either,
and the breathlessness would return at the slightest trigger.

It is very difficult to explain this difference to anyone,
and even if I tried to convey it, I felt like they would just say, “But you can walk, right?”
so I swallowed my words.
Precisely because I looked normal,
I was in a quiet loneliness, as if I were the only one left behind.

2. The double burden carried by “kind people”

Even when you are at your worst,
do you find yourself thinking,
“They must be busy too,”
“They don’t mean any harm,”trying to understand the other person’s situation and convincing yourself?

In truth,
you want to scream, “It still hurts” or “I am not okay at all,”
but because you try so hard to understand, you put your own feelings on the back burner.
That kindness can, as a result, make the door to your heart heavier
and deepen your loneliness.

I myself thought, “Why me?” many times.
People who walked and worked normally were dazzling,
and the days spent fighting anxiety alone while writing documents
were more draining than I could have imagined.

But I understand now.
Saying “I’m struggling” when you are struggling
is not selfish.

Once I stopped aiming to be “back to normal” and started thinking, “Let’s find what I can do as I am now,”
I was finally able to be kind to myself.
Even without aiming for perfect recovery, and even while carrying your weaknesses,
you are successfully living through today.

4. At your own pace, slowly

Your “invisible suffering” is by no means yours alone.
There are surprisingly many people who live while pretending to be “normal” even while carrying invisible pain and anxiety.

You don’t have to rush. You don’t have to compare yourself to others.
Your recovery can happen at your own pace.

Tonight,
please take off the “I’m fine” persona expected by those around you just once,
and simply embrace yourself as you are.
The fact that you lived through today while carrying your anxiety is enough to be perfect.

Please take a moment to look closely at your palms.
Those hands have protected your heart throughout the entire day today.

'You did well today, too. It's okay to just be who you are right now.'

As you say these words to yourself, please drift into a deep, peaceful sleep tonight.

The reason you feel hurt by the words of others is because you are that sensitive and kind. I am preparing a practical guide with concrete steps to help you let go of the habit of putting yourself last and to cultivate 'self-compassion'.

🌿Related Articles

・Why I felt more lonely after the cast came off
　(https://note.com/iyohibi/n/n8bebd7cdcc98)

・The story of how my breathing became easier once I stopped aiming to be 'back to normal'
　(https://note.com/iyohibi/n/nf57e93b22b75)

・How to let go of the 'shame' of not being able to support yourself
　(https://note.com/iyohibi/n/na96cd22a7ad1)

#RecoveryLife
#WorkersCompensation
#SortingOutMyHeart
#InvisiblePain
#SelfEsteem
#ForThoseWhoTryTooHard
#LivingInYour50s
#Essay
#ItsOkay
#PalmistryAndWords