I Hope You Never Understand

I'm doing it again.
I know it when I'm doing it.


But nothing can stop me.


Nothing.

I pour my glass of sweet tea. I lean back and take a sip; hoping, wishing and praying it reaches my heart and fills the pain that is there. That pain, created by the ultimate betrayal of self. The pain that will never be explained or released. The pain that, if inflicted by anyone else, would be unforgivable.

But it's my own body that is the attacker. It goes about itself finding ways to crush my spirit once again. I try to appease it by taking good care of myself. I take all the required medications, supplements and vitamins. I exercise in various ways that are supposed to make my body stronger and more resilient. But that's not what happens.

Instead my body wages war against itself. Over and over again I go through the motions of finding the latest reason for my ailment. And each time the answer has been: auto-immune disease. My thyroid trouble, my endometriosis-induced infertility, and now this latest as-yet-identified ailment that has robbed me of my motor skills, energy and motivation. The diagnoses that are being batted around frighten me. But instead of fear, I feel pain.

So I write. I cry. I write what I feel and all I feel is PAIN. It just hurts so fucking bad. So I cry. Raw, animal-sounding cries.

And then...it's time for him to come home and I haven't moved. Haven't combed my hair. Haven't cleaned up the mess I've made from doing nothing. The clutter visible from every angle.

Do you want to know how it hurts? The sharpness of it? The totality? The emptiness? The pain? I can't spend too much time with anyone because they'll know. They will figure out I just want to die. I'm embarrassed that anyone would know the depth of my pain. So I hide behind sarcasm, false optimism and self-deprecating humor. I feel like everything has been destroyed. I've gained ten more pounds.

Pray to God you never hurt like this. I've had my ass kicked and then some. LET ME GET UP ALREADY! FUCK! WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?

Two Moments

I just spent the better part of the past two weeks away from home. My first trip was to Mexico City and the second was to Disney World. The bipolar swing was exhausting, I'm not going to lie. I will write more about each trip later, but I wanted to make sure I wrote this now. There were two things that stand out the most:

A Religious Experience
For the first memorable time in my life, I felt the presence of God. I have no other words to describe it. Tears sprung into my eyes; the hair on the back of my neck stood up; I had goosebumps all over; I felt like all time had been suspended. And yet none of these words describe that feeling I felt. I walked onto the grounds of the Basílica de Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe - The Villa - and it was a faith-affirming moment. I prayed all of the prayers of my Catholic school childhood. The rush of emotion was almost too much to bear. 

Intertwined
Long lines, roller coasters, Mickey ears, camping in a rig nicer than any of my past apartments...not your typical Thanksgiving for me. There were many fantastic moments; many memories were made on this trip. The one that struck me for it's simplistic and random nature was this: 8 of us standing in line for two hours; children growing bored but keeping each other entertained. The line is moving oh-so-slowly and yet the time is passing quickly. Then my sister starts to braid my hair. A simple gesture; one that, in our childhood, didn't happen often because more than likely we were too busy fighting. I kept the braid in my hair for the rest of the day.