Where I'm at

While I was awake last night, I was watching video after video on youtube (some less embarrassing than others) I felt incredibly guilty. A lot of them were about rare health conditions and physical (dis)abilities that people around the world are not only living with but making the best of. So many individuals that live as much more than their circumstances. It threw me into a shame spiral. I am so fortunate to have, at least most of the time, my health. I'm lucky to be able to move through the world with few physical obstacles. I was lying in bed, having made little use of my body that day, while there are others that live for using their bodies in any way they can. Sometimes I sleep all day while others experience each day as a gift, another day to be alive.

I know this is what I was talking about last night, which I guess is evidence that it isn't simple. It's not a competition and I am trying my best. Here I am internalizing the societal erasure of my lived experiences. So often I find myself believing the very things that perpetuate my struggle. Why is it important that I compare my suffering to others? Why do I use that as a way to invalidate my challenges and diagnosis?

I find so many ways to hate myself.

I was awake at first light,
but exhausted from the unrelenting thoughts
of endings and nonexistence
My brain and beast held me prisoner,
as long as I was awake I could be chained to my own self loathing

I waited for permission
my mom told me I could sleep
I closed my eyes
weighed down by disappointment of all the days
I had merely taken up space

There wasn't enough room
in my bed for the two of us
But he still found his way there, tangled up
in my blankets and deep breathing

When I woke again
he was there
Staring at me, with eyes that were my own

I showered today, but it wasn't enough to wash me clean.
I'm covered in filth, the dust of my cowardice
from all of the times I've run away
afraid of failure and loneliness

He has returned, although I hate myself enough for both of us.

Here I am again, complaining. When I only have myself to blame.