Under the influence

Survival

I get sad okay, but not the type of sad that makes me hate myself. I love me , I know I am precious , I know I am a Queen , I know I am She. But there are days when the loneliness gets too much , days where I want to rip all of this skin from off my bones until the essence of my being can do nothing but decay.

When I was younger I'd get sick. I'd get seizures so bad my eyes would roll to the back of my head until my vision blurred into nothing but the colour of black. Times when my body would collapse , my mind not conscious but my soul slipping into an unknown place between here and there. This world and another. I spent my time in a hospital bed , with drips pumping drugs into my veins until my body was stable , until I could live okay again.

I miss those days. I miss those days when I would slip into a state of nothingness , into a world that made my nose bleed and my body shake like an earthquake. There were times my mother would cry so hard , her face portraying a look of pure panic as my limbs would shake in her arms , as my body would spiral so hard until I bit my tongue , until she could not recognise this child that was her own.

What if I hadn't woken up? Why the hell did I wake up? I love me , I do. I love me enough to know that a lifetime alone is not one comfortable enough to be worth living. And I'm tired , because I've survived epilepsy ,I've survived my world falling from underneath me until the younger version of me had learnt to create another one for me to call home.

I have survived betrayal , I have survived my heart shattering inside of my chest , those tiny pieces falling into the pit of my stomach until breathing became way too heavy. But I am tired of survival , from the bottom of my heart just tired.

                             -Liyah Smith