There’s a real difference in “normal,” isn’t there? When someone says they want it, and when I say I simply wish I could be it. For most people, wanting normal means free from the constant burdens in life, or maybe just having a simple, happy life. It means not just surviving, but living. But to me, those who say they want normal are already living it. The way I see “normal” in people is different. It’s not waking up every day feeling like you’re lost in the middle of nowhere, wondering if the future even exists. It’s just doing the simple things people normally do-things they don’t even realize are privileges and special. I’m not saying people who wish for a normal life don’t suffer, because they do. But they don’t realize how lucky they are. In their hardest moments, when they feel stuck, they still have the power to find answers and make change happen. To me they have control, even when they can’t see it. For me, it’s not the same. When I want change, it feels like I’m trying with everything in me and still don’t know the answers to my own questions. That’s the difference between being normal and just wanting normal. Everyone has their own level of what normal means, but for me, it’s not about just being happy all the time or free of worries. It’s about the ability to plan a future without hesitation, because you have hope. It’s about opportunities that others take for granted, like choosing a path in life without being stuck by constant worry and stress. Normal, to me, is living without a blindfold in a maze. That’s all I want — not perfection, not constant happiness, just the chance to live a life that feels possible. What hurts the most knowing what “normal” looks like, but never feeling like it’s something I’ll truly have. And what’s not normal is constantly feeling like there’s nothing left. No job. No one to support you. Just living life to live. And honestly, sometimes I’d rather not exist at all. Maybe it would be easier that way, no more wondering, no more reaching, for something I’ll never touch. And the scariest part is how normal that thought feels to me now. But instead, I just keep breathing, hoping that one day even breathing might feel enough.