Old Rant #2 - Problems

People talk about diseases, problems, disorders like they know them. But I know they couldn't know even the slightest. Something like that you barely even know you have, it's impossible to tell. Even when you have it, it's like a ghost, something that makes you ask yourself, "Is it there? Or am I just imagining it and trying to make something out of nothing?" When it becomes out of control, those pictures and thoughts and movements become who you are, not something you show off - like cuts and bones. The true misfits are the ones who hide their skeleton, cover their skin. The only ones who show them off by flinging sorrow around like a rag doll are just people who want attention. Maybe they have a different problem- maybe, I guess, they want to be asked if they're okay, someone to hold them, someone to love them...But still, no one knows. Ever.