My Secret

I don't have a real chronic injury. I mean its not killing me. I don't have a bone disease that restricts me to a wheel chair, or terminal cancer. I'm not blind, deaf, or mute. My injury seems to define so much of my life. I want the pain to stop. Sometimes I can't even tell if it hurts or not. I have to lie sometimes: I say that it hurts, but I don't know. Is it that it hurts, or that I want it to hurt? Its just that it isn't like regular pain. When a sharp needle punctures your elastic skin, when a boiling pot burns you, when a fist makes rapid contact with unprepared flesh it hurts. My injury hurts in a different way- it is just uncomfortable. The doctors say that they can make it better, but every time I have a procedure done I endure a recovery period of more than a month. At first I can't eat or drink. Later I can't do any of the things that I love to do: play music, exercise, even think (pain killers). Even simple things like smiling are not an option during this period. To be honest I can barely smile anyways. Just another indescribable pain from my injury. I'm really not asking for pity - self, or otherwise. I'm having my fifth procedure in a few weeks and I have seen no improvement just worsening pains.

I have this chronic thing and I really wonder I have the right to chose to remove my problems. Is it really worth it? Each time I give up a month of my life with the hope of improvement. At one point I was driving with some friends and a teacher . They were discussing how people with chronic injuries have a unique perspective on life. I badly wanted to say that I get it, that I experienced it, but I don't have sickle cell, or cancer.

My injury has defined me since I was born: the way people talk to me, the things they say to me. It started as "did you fall?" then "did your sister hit you?" then "what does the other guy look like?" now they say "WTF happened to your ---?" On the plus side my injury has given me the incredible ability to talk with adults. It has also helped me become a periphery surfer. On the down side it has made me uncomfortable with peers who judge on looks. Maybe my pains will go away in a few weeks and I can carry my lessons learned with me. Chances are I will sell my soul for a month with little to no improvement.

When I was in the car Susie, Maddy, Yomalis, Taylor, and Nora I wish that I said something. I wish that I could have trusted them with my secret. I want to ask for forgiveness. I want to smile wide from side to side and ask for forgiveness.