On the linguistics of symptoms

I can't remember ever trying to wade through treacle
But I've spent whole summers stuck in the mud
Lifted my leg up with all of my force
Severed my ankle from my shoe

I've never felt inclined to add weights to my limbs
But I loved walking to school in a gale
Coats held out catching the wind in procession
Push forward! Arms out! Take off!

I'm not quite sure I'd call my thinking foggy
But I know what something feels like when it's dense
Contours warping around cannonballs in blankets
Stretching tearing straining somewhere else

I'm uneasy with the metaphor of masking
Uneasy with the list of faults and fears
You talked like an adult how else was I meant to treat you?
You talked like an adult how else were we meant to treat you?