Feeling driven and suppressed, motivated and defeated in simultaneous waves. What exactly can I call this place I’m at in life?
With a running list of “to dos” I come home to defeat. 789 more words
Have you ever played with those cotton-stuffed dolls as big as a three year old child, the ones that are meant either to be carried around in your hand or to be left lying on the carpet, the chair around the dining table that no one sits on, or any inconsequential corner where it does not occupy any space which could possibly be used, and when you do play with them, you have a hard time because no matter how hard you try to make them sit, they fall back on their head any way? 348 more words
There are a lot of things I hate about having dysautonomia. The dizziness, the lightheadedness, the tachycardia, the salt, the fluids, the compression socks (even though mine are cute), the occasional need for a wheelchair in public that makes people think I’m a crazy faker because sometimes I can walk and sometimes I can’t (because people don’t understand invisible disabilities.) 759 more words