With Fibro in the news a lot & the empathetic smiles from the reporters on the news as they cite Lady Gaga & other celebrities who “suffer” valiantly… I thought I would just re-iterate how many of us, behind closed doors feel.
Its not “in my head” the pain is real
So here’s a few words about how I feel
“Me” has been lost & “I” has faded
My “happy “My “fun” have all degraded
The “go-to” person who sorted out issues
Now cannot survive without tablets and tissues
I’m a shell, a shadow, a rambling ghost
But do you know what hurts this ghost the most?
The “looks” it gets as it moans from pains
Undisguised disbelief even though it explains.
Even worse, on days when the ghost has gone
When “I” feel like maybe, Life can go on
I know its fleeting when “Real Me” is back
As its anyone’s guess, till I am under attack
From this thing, this word, this condition from hell
That’s ripped up my life & consumed me as well
The friends I once laughed with, have all disappeared
I don’t blame them , I’m boring , not me, just Weird!
My new life is now one of pain medication
Of ghosting, of fading, of complete isolation
Thank George for Make-UP & Snap-Chat Filters & DOGGED determination that this spoonie is gonna live hard on “good days” (by good days I mean days I can hide the pain under Tramadol, Amitryptiline & Paraceptamol, Makeup & Smiles) & know that if I crash – the 3-4 day ride was worth the 1-2 weeks in bed.