When the mind is broken you can’t trust your thoughts
You don’t know who is speaking whether it’s you or someone else
Who’s going to control you that day some illness who won’t stop until I am dead or me who just wants to graduate. Until we get this worked out the real me must bow out and delay her dreams so that the illness won’t succeed. She feeds off stress and she has been fat lately. I must starve her out but it’s hard as I used to use stress as fuel too just differently. And now I sit in a hospital bed not knowing what to do at all. And I wish I could go back to the fifth grade when I broke my leg in 6 weeks I was a little wobbly and as good as new. I wish this new illness worked that way.