MY School life
Now when I go to school it feels as if people discriminate against me because I’m never there. They say things. They say these things with bitter teeth and skepticism, like “what is wrong with you”, “there’s nothing wrong with you” and “your’ fine”. No. Not true.
They remember me as an energetic alternate version of myself that loved exploring and adventuring outside until nightfall. Rain or shine I would run and skip across the land. Moving from place to place, I would never sit still. Not like I am today.
My headaches are stronger than the blinding sun. They send a swift electrical pulse that zips up, down and through my brainstem. My sleep is a shroud of uncertainty, smothered by restless limbs, darkness, and the closure of walls. Once I wake, I feel exhausted and I struggle to attack the day face to face. I am afraid of becoming blinded, immobilized. I cannot think, say or do. This makes me a mental patient in others eyes. I feel I am already being tugged and bundled into an asylum.
In the early stages, I told my mother I wanted to be an astronaut. That way I could be free. Glide into the abyss. Be Invisible. We joked about family holidays in the tropics of Samoa, lying in the sand and sun. The blinding sun. To me, it wasn’t a joke. There is no break, no holiday and no abyss. I cannot stop and wonder why. All I can do now is begin to wait. Wait for a future that protects me, holds me and guards me. Knowing this is to be determined. No amount of remedies can fix me or ever will. Undoubtedly my life has yet to begin. I have been living in a shell that is cracked and dried and is filled with dread. Others may think of me as different. They look at me with distrusting eyes. They do not know that I have become the sickness, and the sickness…has become me.
How long will you live?