When I saw my father cry and sob, I felt disgust. Internally, I never understood why I feel that feeling when I see that kind of suffering.
I think I understand it now, it's rape. It's the rape of dignity, a collapse of the image of competency and strength the one suffering tried so hard to project. That underneath that manhood, that human weakness still lingers.
When I reflect on these things and my own experience of feelings in comparison to other people, I feel less human. I seek vulnerability now through other people, because I don't feel I can truly be vulnerable in any capacity anymore.