The amazing stories of a 23 year old living in a 78 year old’s body.
Voices everywhere, every day and night, all the time, it never ends. They come in a bunch of different pitches and sounds, familiar or brand new. They tell me too much. These voices ruin me.
They can make me feel pretty. I hear my mom say “Honey, you always look beautiful”. My grandpa tells me “never cover up your freckles”.
They sound like kids from school, their voices, disoriented and bitchy or life like. “Your hair is hideous”; first off I love my red hair, my ginger-ness saves my soul and steals so many others. “Oh my God, I didn’t know she looked like that, if she actually tried to look like a girl she could be popular”. Or the ever popular making fun of my last name “dirty water, dirty water. Shitty water. Shitty water” y’all can do better than that.
I hear daily that I’m not good enough, I should do something to make me better. I need to get a job. How do I get a job when I physically handicapped? I’m letting myself down, I know I’m letting others down too. These voices, the fake ones, they are the ones that attack at night whilw I’m vulnerable, in pain and alone.
My family and friends will always stick in my head. I love hearing their voices. However, they can cause pain even if they don’t mean too. “If you can do it then it wasn’t that painful”. “You don’t look that good”. “I didn’t know that was your bad leg/ didn’t think would hurt you that badly”.
My best friend says “where’s my whore. Your godson misses you. You would be so proud of me for —-“. We make jokes that only we understand. Luckily she understands my sarcasm. “All we need is a bathroom and a good carpet to lay on”.
The voices follow me, good and bad. What do your voices have to say?
This is real whether you want to believe it or not.
I can’t fix me. I can’t get better. You hoping it is fake, acting or ignoring me, that just does more damage. It may help you feel better. Yet it digs my hole a little deeper with every word you say, every time you ignore my pain.
It may be horrific but it is still real.
I hate you. You hate me. This isn’t how life it supposed to be. Everyday you hurt me, you try to kill me, you give me pain. This, this isn’t how life is supposed to be. Everyday day I stuff my face with pills, I control how and what I eat, I need assistance to move. This isn’t how life is supposed to be. I’m not supposed to hate you, I shouldn’t have to fight you in order to make it through the day. I want to love my body but how can I love a body that causes so much pain and problems. How is it supposed to be?
Climb that mountain and never look back. For when you do, that’s when you fear the fall. That’s when you doubt yourself and start to loose your grip. You realise you are scared of heights, your feet slip through the cracks.
Your legs may be tired and your hands sore. You might have to stop and take breaks and lean on a few friends. Don’t look down, don’t look back. You only go up from here. You will get there. That’s the end game.
You are a doctor. Are you in this for money or to help the patients. It is hard to believe it is the latter one. This is your job. You signed up for this. Stop questioning my pain. Stop trying to belittle me.
I am a biologist, I have four years put into all kinds of science. Those “big” words you tried to use to confuse me, it didn’t work.
I know something is wrong. Pain is supposed to get better. After surgery, after a sprain, with therapy, it will get better. THEN WHY AM I GETTING WORSE. I won’t push through pain or deal with it. I won’t make myself worse because you have a big ego. Fuck off, do your damn job.
I hope than we lived closer to each other.
I hope that I could drive more than 10 minutes.
I wish that my pets never die.
That I could talk to my family freely and be comfortable with it.
That I was comfortable in my own skin.
My body didn’t hate me so much.
That my brother had better relationships with women.
My dad could handle his feelings better, not fight or act childish daily.
That I wasn’t treated as a drug addict at every doctor’s appointment or hospital visit.
That people understand and shared my appreciation for the outdoors.
People cared for and wanted to save the environment and animals like they should.
You could have another day with someone you love that you lost.
That my health would eventually improve instead of consistently going down hill.
That people weren’t so judgemental, but I only care what 5 people think.
That I had a never ending supply of candy in my house.
That we would just hang out in the bathroom, any one is good with me.
Jus drein jus daun
To be continued…
My inner circle is tight. I have 1 best friend.. so it’s more of a line, not a circle. However my friends, all 10 (jk its 4) of the people I talk to on a weekly basis, I trust. I love them and I have the weirdest fucking relationships with them. Yet that makes them so genuine and beautiful. If I can’t have an awkward, uncomfortable conversation with you, make my asshole sarcastic comments, or fight with you then we won’t survive. With me, I’ll treat you like family, the good and bad.
I am not in pain because I am depressed.
I am depressed because I am pain.
It is not difficult to understand.
I love you. I love you with all my heart, you know this. I would do anything for you. I know you would do the same.
Honestly, I don’t think there are words for how great you are. We have this bond that started from a Peephole and grew from a carpet. We quickly moved to a no judgement and best friends.
Fast forward, now, you live miles away and I wish you were next door. However when we see eachother it’s like we still see eachother everytime we open our door.
You are going through some really tough shit. I know you will make it through. Even if it mean you are crawling instead of walking, some of the days.
I love you
Pain pain go away. Come again.. come again.. nah just go the fuck away. I better not see or feel you again any day. No one deserves how you treat us. So, go the fuck away.