How are you? (I'm not fine)

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: True Confessions  |  House: Booksie Classic
When people ask how you're doing, they expect the answer 'fine how are you?', but sometimes you can't give that answer. So this is what I'm thinking when I say I'm fine.

Submitted: October 03, 2016

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Submitted: October 03, 2016

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How are you?

All day today my head is full of white noise

My skull buzzes with it, it leaks out of my pores and seeps across my skin in a thin greasy, convulsing mass

My bones are rattling and grinding under my flesh

My muscles tense and relax with no cause

And my hands shake, constantly, continuously, consistently, without pause, no end in sight

One thing that people do not know, cannot comprehend

About losing the ability to walk as an adult

Is that you lose the ability to think as well

Everything that was once important, essential

All the things you could not live without

They become optional, dysfunctional, unnecessary, unneeded, barely wanted

I can survive without music, without laughter, without parties and books, and friends

I consist of a cycle of bare, raw needs

Every minimal thoughtless thing becomes a battle

When your limbs do not function

And every action has a consequence of adding to the pain

The aches and agonies that control you

I skip meals, because it hurts too much to walk the five steps to the kitchen door

I wait until I am past desperate to use the bathroom as the floor is slippery when my legs have become clumsy rubber tipped metal sticks that I hold in my shaky hands

I take naps, because I cannot sleep longer than 5 hours

As 240 to 360 minutes is how long my painkillers last for

And I cannot rest without them numbing the rank sharp piercing of bones trying to grow back

The chemicals that flood my system prevent restful sleep

My dreams are twisted, tortured, contorted into strange shapeless things

Sometimes I swear I can feel the chemicals moving through my body, taste them on my skin, hear them ringing in my ears

But that is just another dream

I lose track of days, watch them melt together

I cannot access myself in the mess of my illness

Everything that I defined my life by now seems so far away, like a movie I watched once, or a book I have half forgotten

I cannot access the future as it takes all my concentration to continue in the here and now

I struggle under the weight of expectations that I will return to health quicker than I can

It takes so much willpower to find the urge to fight for long enough to speed my recovery

And after six months of this, my reserves have drained

But I do not have the words to tell them this

So I nod, and say I will try harder

But thanks for asking

I’m fine.


© Copyright 2017 Honeybee Lilico. All rights reserved.

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