#so just wanted to say if you're in that boat yknow. reading my bullshit won't fix it but i do see you

[theramblingvoid]

The issue is that it's like, not that bad. If I could take a pair of time scissors and snip out a little hour long triangle of Now and put it somewhere in Before, it wouldn't even be a ruined day. It would hurt, but not that bad, and it would be weird to happen all at once and then none at all instead of the slow buildup notice-too-late way it did happen, but it wouldn't be the end of the world. I probably wouldn't even have told anyone. Just took a nap maybe, or filled a hot water bottle, or more likely, knowing me, sat there and studied and vaguely wondered if the thing I ate that morning might have gone a little off. Some people have very bad pain. Excruciating, for some people. Mine is like, not that bad.

But the issue is that it's like, not that bad, but not just for an hour. The issue is it was one bad hour in March, three of them some time in early April, and then at some point I can't pin down in hindsight I forgot what it felt like to not be in pain. And it's never been that bad - I could sit at a desk, I could keep up a conversation, and I worked all the way through it, best I could - but my chest hurts in new ways from hunching over old pain and bracing my arms on that desk without noticing. My jaw aches from clenching my teeth, and my boss doesn't know that it's not that bad when she sits me down and asks me why my time has yet to solidify in an appropriate amount of papers on her desk. Because it has been months, see, and a trickle of sand fills a bucket in a year the same way a shovel can do it in a day.

And I am lucky, genuinely. I am so lucky that it's like, not that bad. I have never needed the hospital for it, never been to the emergency room. I could walk, every day, even if it wasn't pretty. But the issue, the god damned issue is that I do not own time scissors because they don't exist. Thirty seconds underwater is like, not that bad, but thirty more, and thirty more, and thirty more, and thirty more, and thirty more, without coming up for air, thirty more, thirty more, thirty more has you drowning. And that's what I think people don't understand, sometimes. I know I didn't. I do now.

Hey. Chronically ill friend. Come here. Let me tell you a secret.

Even if it's like, really not that bad, you're allowed to admit it can be really fucking hard.

#chronic illness #voidrambles #prose #i guess?? #even now not sure if this is posting or going into drafts #was just on my mind today because I'm actually doing a lot better now with meds but I'm still like. not well #which made me realize just how much room there is to be still not well but better compared to where i was before #which made me realize that hey. maybe dealing with this bullshit for months actually kinda did wear on me hugely even if i was never like #crying in agony #i hate being pitied and i hate feeling like I'm asking for it even more so again I'm gonna be clear: it could have been SO much worse #so many people DO have it so much worse and are in agony and do not have the privilege of meds that help even if not fully helping #and the fact that i have the stamina and clarity of mind to even phrase this longass essay right now is incredible compared to before #but i just think it's. idk interesting? frustrating? weird to think about #how gradually something can build up and how much it can affect your life while being kind of objectively like，not that bad #so just wanted to say if you're in that boat yknow. reading my bullshit won't fix it but i do see you #o7 #(okay to reblog) #(if for some reason you did read this whole novel djdhfhd) #personal #<- for filters #watch me hate the way this is worded by tomorrow