A Space for Poetry, Chronic Illness & Pain, and All Things 'Musible'——-"A word is dead when it is said, some say. I say it just begins to live that day."- Emily Dickinson
I pray that if I say it enough, an Angel–waiting–wrapped in cellophane will release its wings, feather-by-feather, cover me in Peace and Grace, so Light that my trepidation will Soar against the Heavens as Stars;
burst into gas, alight as a new awakening galaxy.
Or am I made of cellophane? Do you see so clearly through me? Quickly pick apart the pieces of my cogs and wheels–brain gives way to take shape in Power. Sit by and watch the flooding chambers of my heart, and wait on baited breath
to see if the left will ever fill again.
What flows through Your now parchment mind in those twenty seconds; circulating from root to tip?
Today has been a pretty very difficult today. One of those days where you’d like to never move from the couch, or bed, or chair, but you have absolutely no choice because you have doctors appointments and life. Yep–that day.
One of the most uncomfortable symptoms of my RA is pleurisy which is basically when the pleura–membrane with a layer of tissue that lines the inner chest cavity and a layer of tissue that surrounds the lungs gets inflamed–and has severe sharp/shooting pains. I know, really basic, right? All that is important to know is BREATHING=PAIN! I was given one of those Peak Flow Meters a few months ago when I had my first severe case of pleurisy that sent me to the ER.
It is supposed to help keep my lungs open, make deep breathing easier, and allow me too track my progress with breathing when I am having long flare ups. Ugh! When I have to take this thing out, I almost immediately break down and crack open my little steroid tic tacs every time! But, I attempt to take my steroids as little as possible since it has so many longterm side effects.
My pleurisy has been so bad though, that I couldn’t even do my nails today! That’s right: I have Memorial Day toes and tips on! It is so terrible. For those of you who follow me on Instagram and Snapchat, you know that I am constantly changing my nail designs and nail shapes. I absolutely love doing my nails, it’s very relaxing to me. I think I enjoy doing most creative activities because they allow me to utilize my brain in different nonrestrictive ways.
My first attempt at doing a French Fade/Baby Boomer!
This is precisely why working in a corporate setting has never uhh been my ‘thing’. I feel like I am suffocating and that my time should and could be better spent doing a million other things than literally anything else going on on my desk, let alone in the office. The only thing that I found remotely exciting was the office gossip, and even that got too much too fast. I had my own stuff going on, I didn’t have time for all of those people coming to my desk stressing me out because her baby’s father wanted to have their baby around his new girlfriend, or because Jose caught his boyfriend cheating with Jose’s Uber driver that he thought he was going on a date with after he met him on Tinder…or the 45 year-old alcoholic coming into work cussing out the entire management staff, throwing papers in his face and telling him he needs to do the work himself if he can’t keep his mouth out of her business…and then she gets suspended for two weeks, but comes into work the next day, stands by my desk where I give her the eye and she sits down leaving a whiff of alcohol that I don’t know is Listerine or 80 proof. I do not have the time. Besides, I now have dedicated time and teaspoons of energy to give to my writing and music.I do miss working outside of the home though; just being able to see different faces, absorb fresh air and sun. Yet, for such a long time, being unwell has made me unable to work, both physically and mentally. It has just been in the last month or so that I’ve felt like, ‘Hey! I may be able to start doing this again!’ Most people don’t know that I have been working since the age of 13 (actually prior to that because my family has a business and you better believe I was contributing my share of help! But now, I want to focus on my writing and music–funny, how life works out that way I think.
So, my post is shorter and later today because I spent most of my afternoon getting yet another chest X-ray to check the condition of my lungs and heart (pleurisy and pericarditis–which I have had a couple of times before as well). Last night I was awake and in terrible pain (PAINSOMNIA!) until about 3:00AM, and in those moments, I spend time writing, editing, and submitting poetry. I want to share this piece with you which I have submitted for publication in various journals. It was under revision and I wrote this while awake at 4:00AM during a PAINSOMNIA! event, too. Please, I am open to your comments, to your questions.
If you also have a piece of writing that you’ve writing during a time of ‘PAINSOMNIA!’ do feel free to post it in comments below, or send mean e-mail so that I may post it here at a later time! Here is my poem again below!
I never believed anyone would want to read my story, as it’s difficult to lie to the mirror within yourself; to settle and strap down the peripatetic heart inside of you–living just to burst free and explore its beats. It’s even harder to shape the hairs that run along your supercilious spine, almost ceremoniously holding you together, every one locked in place; it bends and bows barometrically with enough force to give the illusion of choice, direction.
We are but visitors with a stranded path and plotted genetics, which most times make our journey not difficult but…interesting. “Interesting” as my father says fondly over Sunday cups of steaming coffee. He can find the slightest ground of intrigue in the mundane. I share the lust for irreplaceable replaceable knowledge. My mother, of a different sort, not much in noticing the luxe of nothingness in everything. Although she may at times mutter, “I love learning about stuff like that!” her love of useless knowledge ends as most do–Snapple Facts and the passing trivia. She is business with a child’s heart–that I get from her.
I am a dreamer. Most of the time I can be found lost in my reverie, shifting feet from left to right, or searching for a pen. I was just recently reacquainted with several of my monogrammed moleskin journals, so I will no longer have to jot down lengthy ‘trivials’ in the note section of my iPhone (as easy as it is, there’s something about putting pen to paper!)
I wasn’t sure to begin…the very beginning? Back in time to my earliest memories? Some of which, quite fondly, contain delicate moments between my grandpa and I. Should I begin in middle school (bleh!) where I first realized and experienced the truth that my skin color made me different as I traveled through this world? High School? Where the students really had me realize that my ethnicity chose multitudinous outcomes in my high school culture regardless of my awareness or not. Honestly, I never had dates or escorts to the Prom, or any formal event for that matter except one (and if he’s reading this, he knows who he is!) To this day, I know that my slow…uhhh…nonexistent dating life in high school gave me a slow start in dating overall which has unfortunately carried into adulthood. In my young adult years, I dated a LOT, but I never thought twice about having a family too young, too early, I always believed there would be time. Yet, as the years continue to tick by, endometriosis has become, “The Hand that Rocks the Cradle” and I begin to weigh relationships as forgotten opportunities–retrospect. I was engaged once, too, but that’s a nightmare, story, for a different time.
So, I begin here: in media res (‘in the middle of things’) which at this point is the only way I know how. As I have been experiencing some level, some type, some distinction of chronic pain since the age of 11, I have always been in action and continually moving to the next moment. I am hoping that my brief snapshot has been able to give you access to not only my vulnerability, but also entry into your own. It has been a long 7 years away, but it feels fantastic to be back with everyone! Please remember that we are all here together, and no matter what you may have gone through or are going through right now–you are enough.
CosmopolitanMuse 