Day 18 of 31 Days in August
The Chronic Illness Collection of the PTSD Poetry Project 2016
“Rebel Against Change”
Some things are held within the mist
The cool mist where certain things hide
Others are out in the open
Easy to touch
Easy to hold
Easy to reconnect with
New things represent change
I am fickle regarding change
I want to change
Yes I do!
I really do!
I embrace change!
I love change!
I smile on the outside as I say this
I secretly hate change
Things which used to be a weekly treat
Now escape me
I still pursue them
Even when I know
I should probably let them go
When I read the official version
Of who I used to be?
Even I am impressed
No wonder I can smile
No wonder it seems easy to socialize
Inside I am trembling
Wanting to hide away
Stay in the cool mist of forgetfulness
Now I push to remember names
There are still questions of which is which
When I cannot remember
When I laugh and should not
When I want to cry…and still cannot grieve
Which is which?
Does it even matter anymore or at all?
There are no black and whites in my world
There is only an endless multitude of grays
And even within the the gray are depths of color
Not seen by the normal eye
These are the moments which interest me the most
As I rebel against the change which consumes me
The layer upon layer of the unnoticed subtle colors
Which represent the change inside me
This change I secretly hate
Yet allow to mold me
Into this new creature
Who continues to smile
In the face of the changes
She forces upon herself.
August 18, 2016
Days went by without end. Or at least it seemed that way so long ago. The night was full of sewing or crocheting while I still could. Sometimes I would read all night long. Now I rarely read. It’s difficult to maintain the flow of the story inside my head unless I read all the way to the end all in one day. The library, which had been a treat each week to go to since I was a child, became something held inside the mist of the past.
Life changes. It moves on slowly and surely in a healing path for some things, others remain stagnant. No one seems to embrace change and I’m no different than most. I rebel against change for the most part. Yet some changes I dive into with an eager spirit.
I fear I am fickle when it comes to change and especially now I know I am as I push myself to socialize again. Perhaps this is the biggest of changes where I have to push even as it seems to others to be easy for me. When I look at my resume I see I had to have been social to do the work I used to do. High end interaction with the public. Do I remember how to smile and be pleasant for the public? Yes? Do I remember how to interact with people in a personal one on one way? Not really.
This is the conundrum of the mix of brain injury and Multiple Sclerosis. Which is which is always the question. Is it the brain injury or is it the M.S.? This seems to be the unanswerable of all questions. When I can’t remember something simple, especially short term issues I will question this each time. When I begin laughing and can’t stop at the not funny of things I question if this is the M.S. and not the brain injury.
Really in the end it doesn’t matter.
It is what it is and I still move forward in spite of the questions which remain unanswerable.