“That seems sort of harmless but then it kind of gets a little darker and sort of accuses these young pop artists of being part of this cycle where girls read magazines, feel terrible about themselves ‘cause its says “you should be skinnier, you should be prettier”. They feel terrible, and then these pop stars tell them that they’re perfect and that they’re beautiful and they buy the songs and then the popstar’s on the cover of the magazine so they buy a magazine again and it’s sort of this vicious cycle and I sort of implied he’s working for Satan or whatever.
"I sort of implied he’s working for Satan or whatever"
the song’s Repeat Stuff
Repeat stuff, repeat stuff repeat stuff, repeat stuff
Sometimes, when I’m going through a flare or (insert random illness symptoms) I feel like it’s all in my head. Like how could a person REALLY feel horrible and be this sick so often? Could it be more mental than physical?
I’m sitting on the couch, after having to run to the toilet multiple times over the last few hours since finally giving up on sleep after fighting to just get a few minutes of peace during the night, wondering if I am just extremely dramatic and overthinking a stomach ache? I think in the back of my brain, in the tiny sector that is responsible for logic and reasoning, that this is real.
But I don’t KNOW. I can hardly explain how difficult it is to second guess your own pain and exasperation. My dad, above all others, has doubted my illness the most. He used to get angry and say such mean things to his fourteen year old daughter who couldn’t get up to go to school. I remember sitting in my dark room and him borderline harassing me about being a baby. He thought I was lazy and making up excuses to not go to school. I loved school. But what good were my feelings? At first, my mom didn’t believe me either. But I know now that she understands this illness more than anyone else I know.
I’ve lost friends because of my periodical absences from normal life. There are times where I feel like I’m crazy, and times where I wish I could crawl out of my skin to escape the overwhelming uncomfortable vice grip that latches on to my spine and sometimes can’t be detached for days on end. And underneath all that, one of my greatest struggles is just determining if this is as bad as it feels.
Am I really this disabled? These flare up days, are they actually so bad that I can’t get up and go to work or do I just give in at the slightest discomfort? Some days my head is pounding or my joints feel like they’re made of fire and needles. Today, it would be pointless to try and get ready for the day due to the lack of spoons and the alternating cold sweats and extreme hot flashes. I could put my head down and plow my way through the tunnel vision, but at what cost? I am pretty certain that by the time I shower, do my hair and makeup, put clothes on, and get to the car I would be close to the end of my rope for the day. And it’s barely noon. Just thinking about standing long enough to hold my arms up and put makeup on would deplete my reserves and my head would be spinning. I’ve been putting off just getting off the couch to get water from the kitchen. Is this laziness? Or a disability?
I have a high pain tolerance. Most of those viral, seasonal cold and flu symptoms that a normal person complains about once or twice a year, I feel every day. Most days I can almost completely ignore the regular thud thud thud of my headache in the back of my neck and head. And sometimes my hips don’t feel like they’re grinding on sandpaper and I can totally conceal my limp. The worst is when I have a busy week and my back starts to feel like there are ropes wrapped around my pelvis and the bottom of my spine, like a medieval torture device that slowly pulls people apart.
I’m not posting to gripe or to have people feel sorry for me. Honestly I could care less what you think. These days really bring out raw unfiltered honesty in myself. And to myself, as normally I’m alone through these blips. I get a great deal of understanding and maybe some sense of relief writing down my thoughts and feelings, especially when it comes to this disease. I think a lot of people managing chronic pain and illnesses feel very alone in their thoughts very often, and maybe connecting with others who share a common variable can help to make them feel less crazy too.
Maybe I’m just rambling and maybe it makes no sense to anyone at all. But I believe there is some method to the universe, and that everything happens for a reason. We’re all dealing with the cards we were dealt in one way or another, and at the end of this life maybe these lessons will all be worth the struggle.
Also, fun fact: being nice to someone you hate does NOT make you two faced
it makes you a mature adult who knows when to pick their battles and when to just let it go and tolerate someone for their shitty personality.
if you think otherwise grow up
SO MANY PEOPLE TO SHOW THIS TO IT ACTUALLY HURTS ME