I used to walk at least five paces ahead of my mom. Now we walk in step.
When I cross the street every day, I think, Wow, either the cars are moving faster or drivers have gotten a lot more impatient. But maybe it’s none of the above. Maybe I’ve gotten slower.
I’ve discovered in me a wry sense of humor that sometime borders on being offensive.
It took 3 days of steroids to finally put a smile back on my face, a smile that had been erased by months and months of pain. A smile that I'm not sure will stay on my face without the help of medication that makes the physical pain not gone, but bearable.
I used to be one of those people that had a list of 15 things to do in a day. I did 25. Now I’m lucky to make it ¾ of the way through my list. Things are constantly getting bumped back, plans rescheduled, schedules rearranged.
To most people, these are imperceptible changes. They aren’t even a blip on the radar. But to me, these are the things that make the drugs and the illness suck. The things that make me look in the mirror and not recognize the person that I see. I see empty eyes that lead to a hurt soul and a broken body.
Where did I go?
Where did I go wrong?
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