Poem I Wrote Today, Dealing with My Pain

Broken body.

Broken head.

Broken heart.

All my life, 

Or at least my life as I can remember and perceive,

Pain.

Back pain.

Hip pain.

Always there.

Some days worse than others.

Some days not so bad at all.

But pain is life, right?

Well, it’s my life.

Every day, it’s waking up to pain.

Living through pain.

Trying to make it go away or ease it,

But always there. 

Always pain.

The exhaustion as I try vigorously to make myself healthier

On the bad back of a not yet 30-year-old woman.

Hard. Not impossible.

Now in the home stretch,

Every little piece I put into my mouth is important.

Just watching calories doesn’t work as well anymore

Because I have less to lose, less to burn.

So I have to plan every bite, every mouthful.

Keep numbers low.

Maybe if I can’t go to the gym my body will still burn it?

Not so much anymore.

So I have to push harder,

And harder.

But it’s harder to push when you’re in agony,

And you’re emotional,

And tired,

And just want to fucking eat and not count every tiny fucking nutritional value…

However, it’s still far away,

Because I have shitty self-control

In my broken body.

Perpetuated by the chemicals inside

That refuse to do as told.

That believe themselves to be independent,

Doing what they want

Only to fuck me over.

Because that independence

Makes my head hurt,

My heart hurt.

That overwhelming bullshit

To fight every day to feel normal,

To feel not unbalanced,

To feel happy for more than brief moments.

But instead the little chemicals

Do whatever the fuck they want

And in order to make them function properly:

Pills.

I wish I didn’t need them

But the last time I tried

It broke me harder, further, deeper.

Needing more meds to stabilize.

So I truck along

Through good days and bad

In my broken head.

Add up chronic pain,

With chemical malfunctioning brain and emotions,

Throw in the added inadequacies of being fired and years of practice in self-loathing

And here we are.

The culmination of all that I am

Wrapped together

Dripping with sarcasm and tears for glue

Trying to hold it all together.

And lately, it feels that every day is a little harder than before.

That the balancing act continues tipping.

That a happy me seems to get further and further away.

Because I’m so tired of fighting for it.

Because I’m so tired of constantly trying to be upbeat.

Because I’m so tired of forcing myself to smile when I want to cry.

Because I’m so tired.

I’m 

Just 

So

Fucking

Tired

Of 

Living 

In

A

Broken body

Broken head

Broken heart.

All day.

Every day.

Wondering when

I can be happy again.