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Chronic Illness Paradoxes
Stay sick, and you’re not trying hard enough.
Make any improvement, and you were faking all along.
Share your reality, and you’re negative and seeking attention.
Keep the struggle to yourself, and you obviously aren’t that sick.
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I want to let go
of the pain
the hurt
but I can’t
because they are the only thing that makes me feel alive
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Looking up at the stars, I know quite well
That, for all they care, I can go to hell,
But on earth indifference is the least
We have to dread from man or beast.
How should we like it were stars to burn
With a passion for us we could not return?
If equal affection cannot be,
Let the more loving one be me.
Admirer as I think I am
Of stars that do not give a damn,
I cannot, now I see them, say
I missed one terribly all day.
Were all stars to disappear or die,
I should learn to look at an empty sky
And feel its total dark sublime,
Though this might take me a little time.”
― W.H. Auden, Collected Shorter Poems, 1927-1957
goodreads
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The shadows that dull my flame arent real
........... thats what I tell myself.
............ thats what I’m told.
But despite the threads, I use to sow myself together
they sometimes get caught in the fire and burn
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i am not fine - one day i will be
“ i am fine… “
darling, don’t you know that I
can see right t h r o u g h you?
your eyes are so tired.
your smile quivers.
your hands shake.
you are so far from f i n e.
here, you don’t need to be strong.
please, let yourself b r e a k...
you’ve been fighting too hard
for too long, now
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I think that hope, considering how weak it’s flame can be, is surprisingly resilient. When the fire in us is stomped out, hope perseveres.
tara love / hope is what love and rebellions are made of (via ink-and-oceans)
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when i wake
My dreams have been more colorful lately,
they scare me on the inside.
They make it hard to get out of bed in the morning
these dreams wrap their interlacing fingers around my head
and i don’t know when I’ll be free
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Forgive me.
I‘m sorry. So so sorry. I‘ve forgot you so many times. I know that I shouldn‘t and I remember that you are the only one I need. I will ever need. But you know that sometimes I‘m so lost in thoughts that I get this crazy feelings like you were not good enough. That they‘re so many better options out there. But yeah I realized once again that at the end the only one I have and need is you. You deserve the best. You’re more than enough. And I’m so proud of you for reminding me again that you’re the only person I need. You’re so strong, I know you can get over everything. And I will stay with you forever. Promise. I love you. Forgive me.
(from myself; for myself)
November 28, 2018
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We do not take off our shadowy mask in the presence of someone who blames us, but rather in the presence of someone who says through words or behavior, ‘I know this is not who you are.’ We miraculously heal in the presence of someone who believes in our light even when we are lost in our darkness. And when we learn to see others in the light of their true being, whether they are showing us light or not, then we have the power to work that miracle for them.
Marianne Williamson
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write poetry. for yourself, not for others. write about how your eyes look in the sun, write about how the birthmark on your left thigh. compare your laugh to sunshowers and your anger to thunderstorms. take a bath. a long one. light candles and use the bath bomb you’ve been saving for a rainy day. watch the colours it paints in the water, think about how they look like the sunset from that one afternoon. run your fingers along your body. memorise every curve and dimple. get to know the vessel that carries you. pick up the instrument that’s been collecting dust in the corner of your room. play a couple notes. relearn the very first song you were taught. breathe your worries into the noise, let the sound drown out the rushing in your skull. buy some shitty watercolours. paint something. it doesn’t have to be good, it just has to be there. paint your first memory. paint what you think will be your last. burn it. repaint it as something sweeter. repaint it as how you’d die if your life was full of honey. wake up early and get on a train. get on another one. don’t look at the destinations. get off when it feels right. explore. sit in the café. order a drink you haven’t tried before. sell your old clothes. sell the ones that don’t feel like you anymore, shed them like snakeskin. find them a new home. use the money to buy a nice journal and a candy bar. write in the journal when you feel the aching come back, when you feel it creeping into your bones like old dust. eat the candy bar. you deserve it. go through your contacts. delete the numbers of anyone you haven’t spoken to in a year. if you’d like to speak to them, text them. if the conversation brings you pain, leave it. ask the person you love the most for song recommendations. make a new playlist. write the next chapter of your life to that tune.
- and when you have done all these things, you will be ready
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