Normal activity in a damaged brain

I am a good actress. I know how to behave and school my face. No one can tell how difficult it is for me to simply cope.

Towels breathe as they hang in the bathroom. Words and ideas, not my own, are slung around inside my head. Constant internal quivering. Forgetting how to swallow my spit.

But there's a serene smile on my face, a kind word on my lips. So all must be well.

My demand of others to break up my day is too much. My need too great and I am left wanting, searching...for what? Myself?

Excitement over simple things amuse but confuse others. But they are the world to me.

I'm tumbling down stairs which have no landing. Even my grasp betrays me...feelings and coffee cups crash onto stone floors somewhere.

Tools, toys and humans tempt me to rely on them. At least until I become dependent...only to confound me later.

Involuntary acts such as hunger and breathing, I need remind myself of constantly. To the point of being a special sort of stupid. But I feast on such things as Taoist principals, patterns and botany throughout my hours and can understand. Where is the balance?