Life in Pain (Poetry, sort of)

 I wrote this for the monthly writing prompt. I've always wanted to write kind of like a timeline like this. I always imagined it as a novel but it seems to be coming out easier as an essay/ poetry. 

It's 2008. I'm sleeping all the time and I'm not sure why. My stomach hurts all the time. Life goes on without me.

It's 2009. My hips hurt so badly that the pain radiates down my legs. I can't sit or stand for long. I lay on the couch and watch TV with an ice pack on my butt. Outside, Life Goes On.

It's 2010. I was just in two car accidents in the past month. My neck and shoulders hurt so badly. I want to scream from the pain. Going to a chiropractor seems to be making it worse. My whole life is trying to find relief. And Life Goes On.

It's 2011. Everything that bothered me previously seems to be controlled to the point where I can have some kind of life. But now my closest friends and I aren't as close. Their life went on when mine was stopped.

It's 2012. I'm more active than I've ever been. I'm making so many friends. I'm struggling in school but I'm almost done.  As long as I get enough sleep and take enough ibuprofen everyday, my life seems to be moving forward.

It's 2013. My job that I love isn't paying me enough. I don't feel like I can handle a full-time job with my sleep schedule but we are drowning financially. It's all my fault and I need to fix it. Full-time work puts me into a craze. I don't sleep or eat. I'm anxious all the time. I feel like a different person. Life Goes On.

It's 2014. In the past year, I ruined everything. I made bad choices. I changed our whole lives and not for the better. I'm afraid to work and become manic again. That seems to be a trigger. I've tried to work so many times this year and each time I leave in a panic attack. Still, life carries on.

It's 2015. I'm adjusting to my new life. I'm so tired all the time but I push through. I'm meeting a lot of new people through running a nonprofit I started. I'm trying to get on disability but my mom thinks I can make this into a full-time job. Maybe she's right. My life moves forward.

It's 2016. My nonprofit that I wanted to stay small has grown exponentially. I'm worried but I feel like I can handle it. We're in the paper all the time. I just got us a $9,000 Grant but I can't have any that money for the work I'm doing. That's the deal. So, we are still drowning financially. I bury myself in work to distract from the guilt. Life Goes On.

It's 2017. I am finally paying myself but it's pennies to the hour. I started graduate school. I'm worried about whether or not I can handle it but I'm determined. I only take online classes and take advantage of accommodations I can have. I get straight A's my first semester. Is life finally going on with me now?

It's 2018. In the beginning of the year, work and school are still going well. Though, I still don't get paid nearly enough. I'm in the top of my class. I'm asked to speak at a major conference and to have a table there. I go but the entire time I'm depressed and I hang out way too much in my hotel room with the world going on below me. Afterward, we move an hour away and running my non-profit gets harder. My grandfather, the only man who has ever protected me, is dying. I go see him one last time but I don't think he knows who I am. 2 months later he dies. I bury myself further with work and school to distract from the grief. At the end of the semester, I crumble. I can't stop crying and I'm sleeping even more than usual. My husband is so worried he won't go to work. Life Goes On without me again.

It's 2019. I just got out of the psychiatric hospital. I was there for 5 days and prior to that I was there for intensive therapy. I feel lighter now but the grief is still there. I can't get myself to do activism anymore. I had to take two semesters off of school on medical leave. I had to move in with my mother who only allows me to because she needs some extra money. I practice my coping skills everyday. But I'm not working and I'm not in school. What is my purpose at this point? Outside, Life Goes On.

It's 2020. I'm back in school and I have an internship I can actually get to and excel in. I feel like I'm part of life again. 3 months in, covid hits. I'm stuck in my childhood home 24/7 with my insane mother and my husband who is having a hard time coping. I'm working so hard to finish my degree this semester and somehow I do finish but graduation is canceled. Figures, I graduated at the top of my class and I can't even walk the stage. I spend most of the time in my childhood bedroom. I feel trapped in there. Have to get out. I escape to an apartment in July. I'm afraid to unpack because I don't know when my husband will work again. How long do we have here before we're evicted? I'm anxious all the time. I'm sleeping all the time. I try to take a job full-time again. And again, it ends really badly. I fall into a deep depression and sleep even more. This time, the world and I both stop and sob together.

It's 2021. The world seems to be spinning again but I'm completely stopped. I can't push through anymore. I'm so tired all the time. I feel like I have the flu constantly. The doctors don't know what's wrong with me. I'm being tested for sleep apnea. There's no way sleep apnea would cause all of this. My blood work is always normal. Normal. Normal. Normal. Typically, I would love to hear that but I'm so sick and I just want answers. I sleep all day and all night. The world goes on without me yet again.

It's 2022. I still don't have answers. I'm taking a break from seeing doctors and getting tests. I'm so tired and it's so expensive and it's getting me nowhere. I'm at a point where I can't even cook anymore. Can't even microwave food. My house is so cluttered. I can't care for myself or my animals. I need Mobility AIDS but I'm too proud. I won't do it. I'll just continue to suffer. The world continues to go on without me.

It's 2023. I just cut my mom out of my life. I'm so depressed on top of being sick now. I'm not getting answers here. Everywhere reminds me of my mother. We can't afford to live here. The Heat is killing me. I need to get out. We leave in August for a new life. Chaos ensues. We're broken and homeless. I'm still sick but now I have an answer that makes sense. Me. The symptoms line up, finally. I'm too sick, too broken, to fatigued to celebrate having an answer. The answer isn't great anyway. No treatment, hardly any research, I can get to a scary severe place, and if I continue on my Journey I'll only get sicker. I'm told to build a life here. I'm trying so hard to keep my family together and get some help in the strange city I never thought I would even visit but I'm so sick and the stress is making things worse. People come together to help us, a lot of people I wouldn't even expect. The people I would expect to be there are silent. Never even checking in. I feel trapped in the sketchy motel room while the world goes on outside.

It's 2024. We're finally in home and are safe. I'm still so sick but at least my husband is being paid to take care of me. We used to joke about how awesome it would be for him to be paid to hang out with me all day. It's not really as awesome as we imagined. We don't know anybody here, not really. It's hard to make friends when we're in the house all the time. Our friends back home continue without us. Did we ever have a purpose there? Do we have a purpose now? I sleep so much and never feel well. From what I hear, the world is still going on while I live in the strange town I'm scared I'll never get to know.