5 2 o’clock in the morning… This pain is getting boring… I should be bed soon… but I’m not sneaking to my bedroom… so I thought I would just wait here… while I wipe up my tears…
Alright. You’ve called my bluff. That is not the words to Lilly Allen’s first verse.
It is how I feel. There is a symptom – a serious one – that doctors don’t inform their patients about when they receive an invisible illness diagnosis. Isolation.
Thanks for the Internet, and all the glorious blogs, chat room, forums, and Facebook and Twitter, we don’t have to feel alone all the time. But when we are in pain, it is easy to hide back into our turtle shell. No one can tell us how the pain should feel, or even if pain indeed exists. Under our shells, we can quietly deal with our pain.
Doing so, though, makes the isolation deeper. That’s never a good thing.
Right now, I feel a cloud of isolation and desolation hovering over me. The ominous presence mocking the parts of me that want to be happy. That want to enjoy life as other people do who are pain-free.
Right now I want to sleep. I can’t.
Right now I want to be in dream land. I’m not. 😦
At least there is YouTube and endless of “get your butt in a better mood, girl” music. It’s not working very well right now, though.