The invisible darkness or how one person can be 2 entities.
In a way you could say I have a multiple personality syndrome(MPV). I know I'm ill now and most of my time is spend indoors, alone. But every now and than I feel good enough to go out, to the park, the city for a coffee, me with my scootmobile, W. walking and we'll just sit there, me soaking up the atmosphere, being amazed by all those people who hastily move around, places to go, things to do. It's than that all of a sudden like a knife piercing my head and heart and out comes pouring the memories and images of a vibrant fun young girl/woman. She has loads of friends and acquaintances, she has fun, laughing, always up for a new adventure, she looks good, stylish yet like no-one else and sophisticated, always up for a new adventure, a picnic, a BBQ, weekends full of joy camping and swimming, singing silly songs at the campfire, building sand castles with her daughter, she is a person of strength, to lean on for all her friends, she is known for her loyalty , she gives and gives and gives. Who is this person? I 'm not her anymore, yet she and I are the same person, it's my alter ego.
I'm sitting there staring at a group of friends having fun, I know what I must look like to them. A middle aged, overweight, bald, handicapped female, driving one of those ridiculous scooters, she walks with a cane but it she really ill or is it just because she fat? She looks healthy enough, maybe she if she lost the weight she wouldn't need that scooter, lazy bitch. I know I look depressed, where is the fun in my life, where did that person I once was disappear to? Where is that girl that drank cocktails on a terrace in the afternoon, who went to football games and drank a beer and went dancing all night long? A wave of overwhelming jealousy washes over me, I _so_ want to be able to join them in their fun but instead I'm locked up in this world called M.E and illness that dehumanizes you. It's sad, no-one knows that woman I used to be anymore, it's like she never existed, like a fantasy that went up in smoke, a Fata Morgana. What's left behind is a weak shell of that vibrant person. Like someone said, this is an illness with layers and layers of grief and loss. If you shed one another appears.
In a way you could say I have a multiple personality syndrome(MPV). I know I'm ill now and most of my time is spend indoors, alone. But every now and than I feel good enough to go out, to the park, the city for a coffee, me with my scootmobile, W. walking and we'll just sit there, me soaking up the atmosphere, being amazed by all those people who hastily move around, places to go, things to do. It's than that all of a sudden like a knife piercing my head and heart and out comes pouring the memories and images of a vibrant fun young girl/woman. She has loads of friends and acquaintances, she has fun, laughing, always up for a new adventure, she looks good, stylish yet like no-one else and sophisticated, always up for a new adventure, a picnic, a BBQ, weekends full of joy camping and swimming, singing silly songs at the campfire, building sand castles with her daughter, she is a person of strength, to lean on for all her friends, she is known for her loyalty , she gives and gives and gives. Who is this person? I 'm not her anymore, yet she and I are the same person, it's my alter ego.
I'm sitting there staring at a group of friends having fun, I know what I must look like to them. A middle aged, overweight, bald, handicapped female, driving one of those ridiculous scooters, she walks with a cane but it she really ill or is it just because she fat? She looks healthy enough, maybe she if she lost the weight she wouldn't need that scooter, lazy bitch. I know I look depressed, where is the fun in my life, where did that person I once was disappear to? Where is that girl that drank cocktails on a terrace in the afternoon, who went to football games and drank a beer and went dancing all night long? A wave of overwhelming jealousy washes over me, I _so_ want to be able to join them in their fun but instead I'm locked up in this world called M.E and illness that dehumanizes you. It's sad, no-one knows that woman I used to be anymore, it's like she never existed, like a fantasy that went up in smoke, a Fata Morgana. What's left behind is a weak shell of that vibrant person. Like someone said, this is an illness with layers and layers of grief and loss. If you shed one another appears.
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