� It's dark and it's quiet � 2002-06-15 � 7:53 p.m. �
In pieces best describes me...
We cleaned all day... we're not nearly done but my body aches like I've been fighting to keep my head above.
A scorching flame up and down my right leg.... and the achilles tendant on my left is short... much too short to lay my foot flat... I haven't had that problem since I was a kid... but it feels the same.
Pain.
We were suppose to play golf tonight with Kirk and Christina. I am not a golfer... but I would have tried... only... I can barely walk let alone walk, pitch and putt nine holes.
I get angry... I've been here for almost two years... I've been sick for over a year and he still thinks I conjure this up for convenience. I'd love to golf tonight. But I have limitations.
I get angry... I have to explain myself, my body to him... To anyone.... still.
People pretend to understand but they can't. They still sit in shadows and look at you as the girl who doesn't want to be.... be fun... be social... be happy... When the reality is the only thing I don't want to be is THIS!
So i am alone ... while others go about the night.
I'd cry. But I am not allowed to. I am not allowed to wallow in myself for any length of time. I have to fight. I have to be stronger than I was made. I have to conquer. I can't just be here... be real... and cry.
But I will.
Please... sit with me in the silence of my mind.
� previous � next � comments � diaryland � old �