I, like most people with CFS, feel like there are two people inside of me, the well one and the sick one, juggling both of those "people" is a very difficult task I'm a normal teen. Really, I am. People don't always think so, they hear I have CFS and they just change. I know why, but it's still hard. Normal 16 year old girls don't get pity when asked to tell a bit about themselves.
And I AM normal. I call my friends on the phone and we talk about TV and music and books and clothes and boys and parents. I keep a journal and write about how my siblings drive me crazy and how I want to be famous when I grow up. When I'm in a young mood I even write my crush's initals in a little heart in the margin. JO + AN = tru luv 4-evr
I'm just like every other 16 year old girl. Almost. Except, I have a washcloth in my room because sometimes my head hurts so bad I need to put a cold cloth on it, and I have asprin on my nightstand, for when I feel really sick. My fridge is piled high with gummy bears, and pizza squares, and we usually have chinese food leftovers. I also have exotic fruit juice extract, it's supposed to be a miracle juice. It doesn't make me feel better and it tastes rancid, but I take a swig when I feel really bad, can't hurt, right? Also, I've never been kissed either, most of my good dating years were spent at home.
I know a LOT about TV and old movies because usually, I feel so bad I can't do anything but lie in bed and take my mind off the pain by cheap entertainment. But I only watch old movies, because I don't go to the movie theatre much. Some days I feel up to it, but by the time I'm presentable I don't have the energy to go anywhere! Once in a while I go to the movies, but I never see a mystery. I usually feel pretty baad halfway through and I can't always concentrate on the ending. At least I'm honest with the overpriced cinema, I can barely make it through one movie, I don't have the energy to sneak into a second one.
My friends and family keep me alive, I'm thinking of them all the time. It can get hard, though, I still hold on to the memories of events from long ago, they have great lives, they want to think about the Now! I feel silly on the phone, I giggle and make the right grunts of approval, but my heart isn't always in it, and I often find my thoughts drifting, wishing I had a story. Really, I can't remember every person that's important to them. They tell me about their week and I don't know anybody!
Sometimes I get out of bed in the middle of the night, I never sleep, and I swear there are two people moving in me. I feel like I'm watching myself on one of those psychadelic screens, where the bad trip makes you see double. There's one person who is crying, wanting to die, tired of hurting, ready to live and in pain. And she's so old! She's weather-beaten and worn, she's lived, sort of. She moves with a grace, a grace that comes from sorrow. She's grown-up. But, honestly, I worry about her.
Then the other is happy to be awake in the middle of the night, filled with little-kid glee, eager to look at the moon and count the stars. Her eyes shine as she looks at the pictures, spread about the room, of people and places from long ago. When she can't sleep she reads old letters and sings lullabys to herself. She is not so fluid, she stubs her toe on scattered junk and moves jerkily, not ready to be an adult. But she smiles a lot. Still, I look at her and can't help but ask 'how are you going to make it in the real world? how are you going to survive outside of this little room?' Her older friends seem so wise, they were her age when she met them. I worry about her, too.
Please, I don't want your pity, I don't want your sympathy, I'm just a normal girl!
Almost. |
