I never thought that at this age I would get this sick.
I watch as my muscles waste away from inactivity. I watch my face become older than it's years.
I watch other women my age jog passe(more)d with their firm buttocks and shiny hair. I was suppose to be her.
I look down at my gimp of a walk - and feel sorry for myself again.
This is me? This is what I am? A gimp!
I hear teenage girls giggle as they pass me on their bikes. Their laughter is directed at me. I see them look at me out of the corner of their eye and watch them as they pass, giggling and whispering. I gimp on!
I can barely make it home - my legs so weak and my pain is biting and burning. I have to do this - I can't take another day of being inside and watching documentaries of people hiking, exploring and... living.
What can I do?
Why keep struggling just to suffer through a day? What would be the meaning of it? I will continue to deteriorate - soon won't be able to give a statement of clarity. Trapped in a confused mind and pain!
My family having to pay my bills - my husband longing for what I can't give - people explain to my unperceptive mind new ideas - my mouth agape and eyes glazed. Can't follow conversations.
Go ahead young girls - laugh at the cripple. Adolescent boys - scream out your windows at the goofy walking woman. Go ahead! Be impatient with me world!
I have people who love me. They need me. They love my smile. There is nobody that can fill the void if I disappeared.