You know when something fills you
With this indescribable zeal?
When you have a fixation that floods your body
And brightens your day.
You feel almost-
happy-
when you do it.

For me,
anger and despair accompanies passion.
Because they've replaced it.

——————
Honestly, this is one of those things that you can only understand if you've been through it. Imagine if your passions were violin and piano, and that was like, your thing.
You worked for years to convince parents to let you get instruments, and you taught yourself. It was what created self esteem. It was what had initially kept you alive.
It was what made you almost happy.

And then you break all of your fingers and doctors tell you that you will never be able to use them again and you hate life and you hate yourself and you are crushed by the weight of the universe.

And then someone tells you to stop being dramatic, chill out, and take up soccer.