I remember in 2013 laying awake in my shipping container and feeling *not okay*. Getting in my car to drive to a friends so he would cook me food and I could eat, cry and sleep.
I remember in 2014 going to cry to empty and cleanse my heart, and finding I could breathe, or cry, but I couldn’t do both.
I remember walking two, or maybe three steps and then waiting, for the boy behind me to get close enough to push. Sleeping downstairs so I didn’t have to walk up.
I remember when the muscle spasms started, I remember the mindless fatigue and endless scrolling in one armchair, too tired to cook and eat. Happily laying and staring at the wall. I remember driving and being unable to comprehend roadwork signage, my eyes blurry and my brain confused.
Skip ahead and I remember sleeping and sleeping and sleeping. Nausea in the shower and in the sun.
I remember walking to the toilet and laying on the floor, too tired to walk back. I remember inexplicably falling down the stairs two mornings in a row, grazing my arm. I remember the panic of being unable to name the suburb we lived in, or picture our house.
It’s been 13 months since I was able to walk. 5 months since I last crawled. My calves sit flat against the bone, my hips hollow inwards where muscles were.
And throughout it all
What is happening to me
How do I make it better.
Over and over and over.
What is this. How do I… Maybe I can… Maybe I should have… Why is this happening. How do I…
I live in hope and faith in my heart. My intention and purpose is to heal. To walk and swim and dance and have sex.
But sometimes. When I lay on my side and my body goes into spasms from the effort of holding me up and I consider the possibility of becoming too weak to lay on my side. when I have to hang new curtains because the light is searing into my brain, a symptom I thought I’d left behind,