would it help you to know that i weep myself to sleep at night?
should i take a photograph with no makeup and stark lighting so you can see the depth of the physical degeneration? (i already look like i’m about a week dead and down and too stubborn to accept it and lay down) seriously. it’s gruesome. there. unadorned. stayed out of the stage makeup.
should i be telling how i can barely eat and usually get sick when i do?
mention the multiple seizures a day? the fact that i vomit blood? there’s blood in my urine? that i’ve gotten my period 4 times in 6 weeks (it ended yesterday and restarted 5 minutes ago after stopping for almost 18 hours)? that my teeth are all broken degraded by my illness and the meds so when i grit my teeth during the seizures i shatter them?
have i not screamed enough because i didn’t want to disturb my neighbors?
should i have been making the lives of those around me miserable with my shrieking in pain and sobs?
i didn’t think so. i bury my face in a pillow to scream. wait till no one is around to cry and only tell my journals how bad the pain is. in my back and legs it’s never less than an 8 and usually worse. i rarely leave my flat because i need to be close to the toilet and my ‘whups bucket’a small shopping bag lined trash can that is perfectly shaped to the curve of my arm so i can snatch it up and vomit in it as i stagger to the bathroom so i can shit myself inside out because if i vomit i lose what little bladder and bowel control i have (and that isn’t much) even coughing can make me lose it. if i have to shit, i’m going to end up vomiting because the smell will set off my gag reflex which will set me off the other way.
seriously. it’s bad. it’s over. let me go in peace with something resembling dignity.