Memoirs of August

I've learned that words have no meaning., but it is the eyes that speak. I know now that when days are dark, friends are few. It is hard these days.
I am scared. I am scared of not knowing how to handle things, or not being able to.
But, if I get out of this alive, I know I would only be stronger. I am in this bubble. This bubble grew around me when I first became ill. It is like being reborn or learning new things, things that did not matter before.
It is like learning to be, or not having a choice to be somebody else.
Somebody with a tag.
My bubble has been growing for so long, I don't know if I will be able to go back to the old me. But going back to the old me, who was she even..who am I now?
I've learned a lot of things these days. But no matter what I know or feel, I can not be it.
I can tell myself to wake up and smell the roses but then I will just stand there. Not awake. Not smelling the roses...