What does it mean when I say “I’m sick”?
I wish I knew how to explain what is wrong with me succinctly. I wish I had a diagnosis that could sum it all up and provide answers. I wish my pain and symptoms weren’t so embarrassing to explain to doctors over and over again.
I wish I could accurately describe how it feels to not be in control of your own body. I wish I could describe how disgusting it feels to be second in command of myself. I wish I knew how to say what it feels like to be in pain every day.”It really fucking sucks” just doesn’t seem to cover it. I don’t have the words to do that subject justice.
I wish I knew how to explain how hard it is to take pain killers daily. Not just physically, but mentally. To need something to fix you. If I had the words, I’d tell you just how easy it is to get addicted to pills because sometimes you just want to feel nothing.
I would tell you how hard it is to not be able to work. To not be able to do something you love. To have to reevaluate where your worth as a person comes from when you can’t support yourself. I’d have a lot of words on that.
I would tell you how boring being sick is. And how crazy that can make you. And how no, having more time doesn’t help when you are depressed, it just gives you more time to think about your failures. It gives you more time to wonder if all of this is your fault, or in your head.
There are so many things about being sick that I wish I could tell you. But I can’t. I just don’t have the words.
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