Standing in front of my bathroom sink and cried as I looked at my bruised arms and chest. I let the tears wash away the hours of agony I have felt for the last week as I sat in a hospital trying to figure out why I can barely breathe. I cried until I had to reach for the oxygen because my lungs don’t want to work anymore.
I am home, but far from healed. Part of me is overjoyed to be here, this is the part I am showing the world. The oh how good it feels to be in my bed, with my sheets. Yet another part screamed from underneath. I want my family and friends to be glad I am here I don’t want to show them that I am hurting so badly that if you were to touch me even with the lightest touch I would scream.
Yet I crave that touch, I crave the warmth of the man I love holding me, showing me I am still his, still worth touching. Just a touch that reminds I am not so broken that I am no longer worthy of love.
The tears have to be short lived; because every tear takes another hard fought breath. Then I look at the bruises, the sores, the swollen parts and I just can’t even begin to see my worth. Go ahead, yell at me, remind me I am more than just the shell I occupy. However, remember I was never very good at seeing my own worth, I can find worth in anyone and anything except myself.
I look down again, it just realized this seems to bring out all the flaws I felt I had all my life. My skin is finally showing them to the world! Each failing, each mistake seem to be displayed on my skin, as if each bruise was a flaw I felt but no one else saw. I see them in my minds eye but now everyone else can see them too as if they were tattooed on and covering me, finally free to be seen by the world.
I want to scream can’t you see this is how I felt ALWAYS. How can you not see it, feel it? How can you say you love this? How can someone so flawed deserve to be loved?
Finally, I walk away from the mirror, as I look down and find my toes blue, I decided I better or I will end up back in the hospital. I shuffle my way to bed. After what seems like hours I find a position where the aches and pains can be managed. It’s only then that I take a moment and rest. Allowing my eyes to close for just a moment, savoring the feeling of being back in a bed, a bed I wasn’t sure I would ever see again. Holding my favorite pillow against my aching chest. I feel the familiar pain of not being able to catch my breath rise up again, in a near panic I reach for the machine to help me breathe again, silently telling myself I will heal but frightened so deep inside that I am just too broken.
Theses were the rambling thoughts from my scattered mind after coming home from my 3rd hospital stay in 2 months.
I know it is raw but it is me, my honest thoughts, feelings and who I am.
Oh, and on a side note of the doctors at the hospital was named Tom Baker, yes I looked for a sonic screwdriver and listened for the tardis…
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