Actually, one of those weeks..one of those months…one of those years..
I had surgery yesterday. Yes..another. My 9th in the last 6 years. I’ve had severe abdominal pain since October. The kind of pain that has you barely walking, on your hands and knees, hurting to breathe, cradled up just hoping it’ll go away by morning. Nothing makes it go away. My surgeon couldn’t find why I’m in pain…no answers at all. On to another doctor…again…the only way things go with me. I’ll probably need another endoscopy by summer, no surprise. Once these pointless and painful incisions on my stomach finally heal I’ll still be in pain. I’ll still be scared to go to work, hoping I’ll get through the night. Scared to go anywhere. I’ve already dropped half of my classes this semester because I’ve been so sick. I just can’t do it.
I cry almost every night….honestly. And I hate telling people that. But why me? I’ll never understand what I did to deserve to live like this and it eats me up inside. “Megan this is what makes you different” “This is what makes you so strong” “You keep me going, you make me never want to give up” STOP. JUST STOP PLEASE. That doesn’t make anything better. It doesn’t make me any better. Your kind words won’t change the fact that I’m only alive because of pills and inhalers every day, because of the surgeons who have actually somewhat fixed me, because I haven’t given up on myself. It won’t take my pain away. It won’t take away the things I’ve seen, the things I’ve experienced.
I’ve stopped interacting with most people, trying to see people, trying to be friends with people. It’s too exhausting and no one understands. I’d rather lay in bed all day. It makes my few friends mad and upset..and I’m sorry….
I tried. I thought maybe this year would be different and I would get to enjoy it. Maybe next year…
I’m only doing this because I have no one to talk to and holding it in just makes me feel even worse. Don’t respond to this, don’t message me, don’t anything. Imagine I’m just talking to myself. Okay, I’m done.
City And Colour // Comin’ Home
I know that we’re takin’ chances, you told me life was a risk.
I just have one last question…
Will it be my heart, or will it be