Darling, I’m Dying
I have a chronic illness, and it leaves me living in constant pain. I can hide my pain pretty well, but sometimes the tears escape my eyes. There is no cure and no treatment, just feasible mangement. At my age, doctors are hesistant to give me actual pain meds. I suffer from both physical illness and mental illness. I tried to end it all, more than once, both times by swallowing a bottle of pain pills. I didn't want to kill myself, I just wanted to kill my body. Or maybe, I wanted to kill my mind. It's hard to die without dying but the thing about having chronic illness and mental illness is that it is hard to say which is worse. Could it be the constant deppressive depths and lowly lows of my mind or the constant pains shooting and burning through my body? I'd say both, but killling both would kill me. So I'll suffer here, in this suffocating silence, and let my life slip through the cracks, of my shattered soul.