TRIGGER - a lot of junk rolling about in my head tonight. Gunna uncap it, and spill some of it out.
I have a PVD in my right eye. It's left me with a dime sized floater and some stray stands of darkness that follow my line of vision.
I keep hoping they will
When the doctor confirmed my fears with the diagnosis, there was nothing inside. No anger, no sadness...just the feeling of my hands relaxing.
It's just another shovel of shit plopped onto my plate.
It's a sad reality that crap like this can happen to me and it doesn't faze me. I am so used to bad things happening to me that I have just come to accept that life is going to shit on me. After a while having the quality of your life slowly stripped away just stops causing reactions with in.
Boy in my 20's when I was handed the life sentence of a permeant back injury I raged against it. I grieved endlessly. It was an awful devastating diagnosis, it was hard to give up my athletic life. So hard. Running, skating, horse back riding, my career as a CNA, dreams of becoming a nurse...
the emotional pain equal to the physical pain.
Loosing my taste from the radiation was a jagged shank to my back. Out of the blue. No warning, just gone in a heartbeat. I was angry as hell, it's a known side effect, would have been REALLY FUCKING nice to have been warned.
Didn't know that my sense of smell was impaired already until the taste went. The day I stood in the kitchen trying to decide if the lunch meat was good or not. Couldn't smell it, couldn't taste it. Soul damaging pain....I couldn't even protect my children from something simple as spoiled food. You have no idea how triggering that issue is with me. Someday I should share with you how I was forced to eat bug infested food, and what the torture did to me.
my brain a dark play ground of anxiety, PTSD, DID, depression.
The peripheral neuropathy has taken my sense of touch too.
I have normal aging hearing loss....
and now this with my eyes.
it,
is
...disappointing.
What the fuck did I do to deserve this? LISTEN UNIVERSE I HAVE BEEN SUICIDAL ALL MY LIFE. EACH TIME YOU CARVE AWAY A SLIVER OF MY QUALITY OF LIFE MY WILL POWER TO STAY AROUND AND SEE WHAT SICK FUCKING THING YOUR GOING TO DO TO ME NEXT ERODES AWAY.
ITS FRESH BLOOD ON MY HANDS THAT ARE DESPERATELY HOLDING THE ROPE. MAKING THEM TOO SLICK TO GRIP TIGHTLY.
When the doctor confirmed my fears with the diagnosis, there was nothing inside. No anger, no sadness...just the feeling of my hands relaxing.
That relaxing feeling SCARES THE CRAP OUTTA ME.
There is no fight there.
No fight in me equals painful acceptance. Acceptance means its okay to hurt me. Hurt me means I am dust, and not worth fighting for.
Is this the straw that broke the camels back? Is this where I stop flinching as life pummels me?
Is this where I stop looking both ways before crossing the street?
Is this what causes me to quote Shakespeare's most powerful words?
"O that this too too solid flesh would melt,
Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew!
Or that the Everlasting had not fix’d
His canon ’gainst self-slaughter!"
To lay here like a whipped dog and just take this without complaint is not me. Its not healthy for me NOT to get enraged and fighting to keep going.
I can't summon that fight in me.
Writing here tonight difficult. The darkness in my eye worse with bright lights. Struggling to see past it to write.
Would really like to work on the "Skinned trilogy" but right now all I would do is bury her further under the earth and tell her to never come out.
I'm lost inside.
pulling back inside my head...
taking out my pocketknife
carving my name on the inside of my skull
the scratching vibrating the bone
echoing in the emptiness I am feeling.
clawing at the darkness as it slowly descends over my eyes...
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