They never tell you that physical pain takes a toll on the body after a while.
That's the reason they drug you up. To make you feel that the constant, annoying torture isn't just physical, but it's mental too.
A way to make you feel that the aches, night terrors, and consistent self-doubt is this plaguing misery is all a fabrication in your mind.
When it's an everyday event you feel crazy. You feel that there is absolutely no way it can be every single day.
Do I look as bad as I feel? Can people tell?
Can they see that scar I have has lost coloration. The dent from the steroid shots.... Can they see it?
I could can fit a M&M in it. A red one, of course. I only like red colored candy. I will eat the other ones, but I don't particularly love it the same. It's a mental thing, right?
Lately the mirror has been my nemesis.
I will stand there and stare.
Because I am looking for the good.
I have cute toenails. I have always though the shape and size was something of a fetish foot-model status. I could be wrong, but I do feel like I have that going for me.
I am in a struggle to get right with Jesus. Not that I haven't turned my life around for the better. Far less drinking than my previous life, and I have only worn one scandalous shirt in the last 6 months.
But my life has turned into a bad sitcom.
There is a lot of fake laughter, and a farcical screenplay.
I think I just need a change of scenery. I have lived her for 11 years now. It's far too long for my liking. I know it sounds like I am running away. But I am really not. I am just playing with the idea of something different.
Like a coast. I told my mom I should start to do drugs so they can send me to a fabulous coastal rehab facility.
Don't worry I am not going to actually do that. I would be a terrible drug addict.
I just have run into this issue where I put everything and every one else ahead of myself.
Am I cursed because I have been taught to be caring and selfless?
So when others aren't I don't understand and I try to make up for the fact that they aren't.
I can't stop. It leaves me in shambles, but I can't stop.
I am a lover. I want to be the best person I can be. I want to be honest, caring, selfless, adventurous, kind, and above all hopeful. I hope that if I am kind enough it will help anyone treat others better. With a kindness that is out of character.
I know I can be temperamental. I have no excuse. Everyone goes through something and I no better nor worse. I just need to find the strength to face the mental block I have endured.
I have been secretly debating doing a photo shoot that embodies the feeling of this "disease". You can physically see the scars it has left. Well not the internal ones but my super sweet dent has been prevalent enough to haunt myself image and why not share it.
I am talking crazy.
At least I can eat an M&M out of that.