Invisible Among the Living

Lately, I wake up with this dull heaviness in my chest. It’s not sadness exactly, more like dread — like I’m bracing myself for a world that feels too loud, too uncertain, too sharp around the edges.

Everywhere I go, there are people. Talking, laughing, scrolling, living. Yet somehow, I still feel invisible — like I’m standing in the middle of a crowded room and no one really sees me. I smile when I have to, I nod when it’s expected, but inside, I’m just trying not to crumble under the weight of my own thoughts. I am trying to fit in this chaotic world of aliens.

Maybe it’s harder because I’ve always been alone in some way. No siblings to talk to, no cousins close enough to call mine. I never really had that “someone to share with” — the person who just gets you without needing an explanation. So everything I feel, I carry by myself. Every small joy, every ache, every thought that needs a place to go — it all just stays inside me until it gets too heavy.

It’s strange — being surrounded by humanity but still feeling so far from it. Everyone’s busy pretending they’re okay, and I guess I’m doing the same. Maybe that’s why it feels so isolating — because we’re all silently scared, quietly hurting, but too afraid to say it out loud.

The world feels unpredictable these days. Every headline, every sound, every new day comes with its own kind of fear. And sometimes I wonder if we’ve all just accepted this constant state of dread as normal — this quiet panic that hums underneath our routines.

But even in the loneliness, I remind myself that feeling this way means I still care. I still want connection, even when it feels out of reach. I still want to belong, even when the world feels too heavy to hold. Everyone is just moving on with their lives.

Maybe one day I’ll find peace in the noise. Or maybe I’ll just learn to live gently with the fear — to carry it, but not let it consume me.

For now, I’ll keep breathing through the dread, even if no one notices.