Two bitches, foaming at the mouth, always ready to pounce on me. I feel their saliva dripping, I am close enough to feel their hot breath on my skin, I want them to back off, I scream for them to leave me alone but they stop short of biting me and tearing my face apart with their sharp, pointed teeth. I am bleeding, all over, yet they can’t see it or they don’t want to acknowledge how much pain they cause me. It’s easier to blame me.
I know nothing will change. I have fought this battle so many times before and I still feel empty, scared and I am hiding in bed. I don’t want to talk to anyone, see anyone. I feel sick, my stomach is in knots, I drink tea with milk and honey, a sure sign of my malaise. There is sunlight coming in through the window but I don’t see it, I turn to the wall instead where the shadows are dark; the door of my room has been shut tight all day. There is no one I know that can make me feel better; it’s been non-stop stress for weeks and I feel like I want to run away.
I want to be like my childhood friend who lives for herself, wherever she pleases, dining, dancing, enjoying life. I am not enjoying life right now, I am barely getting by. My body hurts, my heart hurts and I’m questioning if my soul is even alive anymore or if it is even attached to my body. I don’t think it is. I saw a professional who was the opposite of professional, she, a nasty, cold, devil who did more harm than good. How can you abuse a patient? I just recently let her go but her words still ring harshly in my ears, there are many bad doctors in the world, untrained, shameless, heartless with just initials after the name to claim their worthiness. It’s not enough.
I’m wounded but not like a soldier bravely marching back to duty. I feel defeated and empty, in despair. My stomach rebels with a hard knot and pain on the back of my lower right side. I don’t eat, I’m not hungry. I am more than sad, less than suicidal; I’m a tightrope walker without a net. I don’t remember ever feeling like this before. I wish I could hate it so I could claw my way out of it but I don’t have the energy or the will to do so. I am tired but not sleepy; I am forgotten. I don’t know who I used to be just how I feel right now.