Posted by August (18.104.22.168) on May 03, 2001 at 00:06:22:
I was hiding in my room during an attack i fought through. I could hear laughter coming from down the hall and i knew outside my four walls my neice and nephew were playing with my room mate. I could''t register what it was they were doing or give it much thought. I tried to push out how it hurt to hear them having fun, while i was stuck in my prison of pain, alone. Afterwards i sat down on the floor and cried for too long. I realized time for me is measured by a yard stick of pain. Days are turning into weeks, weeks turning into another month. I have nothing to show for it. No poetry, no art finished. I haven't been able to do anything but fight to make it through the day, through the night, no sleep but still forced to face another 24 hours of this hell. It used to be I had to fight kip 10s for about 10 days out of a month. Now it's getting to be almost 3 weeks of it, 6-7 attacks in a 24 hr time frame. Time is how i measure things, but time is slipping away from me. All my time is fear, or pain, and brief intervals of forced joy. The times i'm not fighting cluster pain i'm fighting tumor pain. I'm doped up on morphine or actiq for some relief. Dr says it's to help my quality of life. That is a joke to me. This isn't a fucking life! I'm so happy for the people that the shrooms work for. I can't emphasize that enough. I'm very happy for those it works for. I'm ashamed that inside i'm crying and screaming "why won't it work for me?" "When will it be my turn ?" "Don't i deserve a break too?" I want time to be measured in memories of things i love to do. Measured in joyful times and laughter. I feel bad for these selfish thoughts. I'm honestly happy for those who go into remission and who shrooms are helping. I'm honestly grateful to still be alive. I'm just selfishly wanting to live it.
Ok, no more tears, i'm done. I'm sorry for venting like this. Please let me here, i needed to.
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