This is a searingly honest window into the soul of someone who is beautiful and damaged. Note I’m saying “beautiful AND…” not “beautiful BUT damaged”.
The difference is critical.
We feel what we feel quite uniquely; no-one can understand what it’s like but there are a few who can come close to being a sort of comfort when these lowest of low times hit. I sincerely hope Drem, that you have or will soon have a person or a couple of people with whom you can feel more like the person you want to be, instead of feeling like this. It’s shit, I know. If you’ve read any other pieces on my site you’ll know I’ve suffered with physical and emotional pain. You know yourself that there are better days and there will also be more bad ones, just as I know that too.
Rooting for you.
(best if viewed on page)
Yesterday I woke up and knew it was a bad day. I smoked a lot of medical and it made it fucking worse. So I laid in bed and cried awhile. Didn’t tell no one about it. Fake it till I make it, right? Yeah. We gotta be good actresses to not let no one know what the fuck goes on in our swinging up and down creatively-cursed minds.
I think I cried drips of acrylic paint.
It stained all my sheets and made me all different colors.
And then I ran really fast far, far away from my bed… I lasted a few hours.
Been fighting my MS as hardcore as possible. Been running from it. I can’t conquer it. I can’t take my life back. It’s a waiting game that fluctuates my level of production during my inflamed lesions. I cried again in…
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Drops of Sanity 
Thank you ❤
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