Monday, November 5, 2018

An Inflamed Soul

For anyone who has struggled with illness - whether the physical kind or the hidden, often (unknown to others) mental kind, then I think you can relate to the feelings in this poem below.  I wrote it at a time that I was struggling, particularly with my Celiac Disease.  But, I had felt similar feelings throughout several health obstacles in my life.  When I was 23, I was diagnosed with Familial Dilated Cardiomyopathy.  At the time, I was in Congestive Heart Failure and struggling with fast, abnormal heart rhythms.  The diagnosis was transcendent - I was shattered, sick and scared. 

And then the exploratory phase begins after such a diagnosis - tests, doctor after doctor, multiple opinions, this explanation, that explanation.  And all the while, you just want to feel better, to feel normal again.  So, you push ahead and walk the line and dig in to fight before it gets the best of you.  But, in all the doctors offices or hospitals, no one ever said, "How are you feeling, mentally?"  I wish they had.  Because I believe if someone had done so, it would have helped prepare me for the anxiety and depression I would feel over the course of the rest of my life. 

 So, for anyone struggling, maybe you can relate to how I felt the day I wrote this.  For me, I just had to release what was in my head at the time.  Hope others will do the same - put it down on paper, share your feelings with someone, or ask for help.  There are so many of us struggling and my advice is just this - surround yourself with LOVE, pray for GRACE and be KIND to yourself and others. 

An Inflamed Soul

I'm pushing all my pain, my fears, my insecurities deep into the center of my being.

My soul is swollen and inflamed and ugly.

My infrastructure, my boisterous imagery, my demons and friends, and my magnified heart are crushing me.

Straighten yourself out, I cried.

Fall into me, I moaned.

I am a monster.  I am unsightly.  I am repulsive.

You're simply you.  With a little mileage and heaviness.  Your stance is poor.  Your mind is fragile.