
I’ve always been told your mental health affects your physical health and vice versa, but I’ve found that pain is just pain.
No matter which comes first, the other will drag you down. A pain-free morning is cut with depression and a sunny disposition met by a stabbing ache in your back.
Am I too young for this chronic pain the same way I was too young for allergies, migraines, anxiety or grief? It doesn’t matter anyway, because no matter what medication or how much you take, reality is still reality.
Not to be a Debbie Downer, but anyone who feels 100% any time is a liar. It’s alright to be happy and content with your situation, but we all know nothing is perfect.
I guess if that’s the ceiling then the floor must be in the ninth circle.
So when I’m asked, “Where do you feel this emotion?”, the truth is I’m not even sure if I do. It’s difficult to determine if what I’m feeling are my emotions or what the ibuprofen missed.
It’s hard to accept that no matter how good I feel, I know I’ll never feel good.
Spending my days watching my peers experience what I could have if things had been different is exhausting. The silent envy is concealed by a smile and encouraging words, but repression only goes so far. Want is a helluva drug, and I’m in the midst of a battle with addiction.
On the bright side, my obsession takes me farther than any desire could. The 1 1⁄2 years I’ve been at Bradley haven’t brought me global power, infallible fame or a billion-gazillion dollars, but I’ve gotten exactly what I wanted and planned to have.
The future’s a mystery unless you’re willing to make it your own. An unhealthy mindset perhaps, but nonetheless one that I face every day.
That’s the answer then; everything I feel is in my head.
Maybe one day I’ll be able to live in the present, feel my pain and realize I’m content. But that’s not going to be today, and it’s not on my schedule for tomorrow, so maybe another time.
All I know is by then, I will be far away from here.
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