I’m Trying: For Those Who Struggle With Lyme.
I’m trying. I'm trying very hard to make them see. To make everyone aware of how hard I’m fighting. How hard I'm fighting to stay alive. To fake it. To give the illusion that, on the inside, I’m fine. That I'm not broken. That my body is tired of trying to save itself.
An internal fight.
To save itself from her.
I have never know fatigue so intense. Sleep is a pointless action. Like staring into the sun. I'm making myself laugh. I'm forcing myself to care. They won’t see it. Some do. Bless them, but others will never know. No. They will never have the capacity to understand. Or care. Are they trying? I shouldn’t be mad at them. I honestly have no right to be. Although sometimes I think I am. For any good reason, I can't say. Maybe it’s because they're normal. Not afflicted. They sleep at night. They can handle stress. Eat what they please. There words emerge as they will them to. I resent them for it. Underneath it all, I want some recognition. Tell me I'm strong. Tell me I'm doing my best. So maybe if I hear all these things, I can force myself to believe it. To believe that I haven't lost almost everything. Or maybe I have. It feels that way sometimes. Truly, I’m trying.
I’m trying to see through the fog of self pity. I can’t make them understand. That was a foolish comfort. Just maybe, if I made them see what I see. If I could just make them feel what I feel. Then all would be okay. Would it really? No. Not at all. These notions of revenge must released. This is hardly anyone’s fault. She was created by human works. It’s disgusting. We can't love each other when we are too busy finding ways to kill.
All of this is my responsibility. No, I didn't invite her into my home. Into my life. That doesn’t matter. The past is important. There are lessons there. Lessons I need to remember and recall. That way of thinking won’t work anymore. She’s a part of this now. This life I live. I’m not dead. No. I see things differently now. It’s altered me. Such a closed book I've become. The idea of revealing the inside is madness. So closed up. It’s a safe haven from within. I must change this. I can’t. I will? I’m trying.
I’m trying to be okay with her. To not hate her. That’s what she wants. She wants me to hate myself because of her. To wallow in the pain she brings me. To suffer silently and alone. She wants me alone. Then who can stop her from feeding? They will never understand. They can’t. They can only accept you and her. Some didn’t. They are gone now. Don’t regret their lost. Enough wondering. The remembering of what was. Or what could be. Can you alter the past? Can you see the future? No. You only have the here and now. The seconds ticking by are they only thing that you can change. Forget making them see. Relinquish the idea of justification. There is none here to find. Life is never fair. Some things will always be. No matter how hard you try, the grass will grow regardless. The sun will rise. The moon will glow. Friends will come. Some will go. You're sick. That’s okay. Not everyone needs to know. Look and see those who have stayed. Look and see the ones who have come. Think of the ones who have yet to come.
You are fatigue. You are not weak. Fake it? You've never faked your strength. A tired body gives you a sharp mind. A cross given to a soul who can bear it. I'm broken. There is nothing time can't fix. Smile. Look at yourself. You’re trying. You aren’t done. This will never been done. A struggle to endure till the time comes. The time to go home. This life is fleeting. Stop the internal harassment. Stop the doubts. You’re trying.
It is enough.
Myle? I’m stuck wit her. Oh yes baby, it’s you and me.
I’m trying. You’re trying.
Never forget this important fact. You and I? We're doing just fine.