Didn’t think I would be back here so quickly.
But here I am. Struggling. Hurting. Watching myself fade. Crying. Not sleeping. Laying awake, wondering, “why me, Universe? What have I done to you now?”
I am angry. And I am broken. But more than anything, I am so tired.
For the past 6 months, I have been very physically sick. I developed a severe case of asthma, which was discovered after I had gotten in the car to leave a concert and found myself unable to breathe. Then, a few months later, I was in Urgent Care for three hours after the pacer test left me coughing uncontrollably.
When Spring came around, I was sick nearly every day. Then, my body would give me a few day break, before I got sick once again. I would get congested, develop an ugly, dry cough, I would wheeze, become short of breath, and my throat would bother me.
I was in my Pulmonoglist’s office weekly, and put on steroids regularly over a short span of time. I would feel a little better, but it was all a temporary fix.
I tried telling myself that I could live like this. That I could deal with the multiple inhalers and runny noses and the asthma attacks. But the truth is, I was just trying to keep myself from going down a dark path again.
A few days ago, I started having outbursts at random times. If I was angry, I broke down. If I felt like I was being yelled at, I broke down. If I accidentally spilled ketchup on my shirt, I broke down. And for someone who normally isn’t that emotional, this was odd.
“We’re getting to the bottom of this,” my mother said.
“But we aren’t,” I screamed, “because until those shots are here and one of them is in my arm, I don’t believe that I will get better.”
I lost hope. Even with a solution in play, I no longer felt anything. Some would say I felt nothing.
My body has been through so much. The universe has hurt it, I have hurt it, this sickness has hurt it.
I don’t want to do it anymore. But I’m trying. I am trying to find some shred of hope that I can hold close.
Life is really, really tough. And just because we cannot see someone’s struggles does not mean they they aren’t in pain.
I don’t know why the universe seems to be torturing me. It isn’t fair. It is unjustifiable. But I am doing my best not to unravel to a point where my hands won’t be able to put myself back together.