It's not as if the bowl of mess eventually dries up or evapourates over time. One just learns to clam down so that it doesn't tip over anymore, leaving a trailing mess all over the carpet. It is very pleasant, actually to recognize and embrace the solitary nature of... all this. I feel like it's a dull, quiet, black mass sitting at the bottom of my bowl-shaped heart, going nowhere, and calling out for none. The only irritating thing is that it does take up a little space, leaving less room. 

I guess my point (at the risk of sounding 16) is that you're strong enough to walk this on your own, especially when you feel like no one understands. Because, truth is, they can only be there with and for you, but they will never be you. This is empowering.