My Damage being your Baggage

I cannot any more laugh it off or leave it to when things unfold or struggle to come up for air which won't always be within my reach,or smile for what I am blessed with. I am ungrateful for life's bruises and the tiny bursts of happiness that come with the package. They don't go through my thin, absorbing skin because my body rejects any sort of wisdom. It rejects thoughts... Because thoughts will cause me to conclude eventually that my damage cannot be your baggage. I will have to give you up. Or I will have to give myself up. I will lose my conscience, my thoughts, my wisdom and my blessings either way. Or have I already?