o c ean waves

sickness feels like that place in the ocean where the waves break into each other, constantly turning water over and over, restlessly. creating sea foam that my sister used to called ocean snow. its this breaking point, where one wave coming in crashes into the wave that is coming out, an imbalance of forces clashing, that it creates a turbulence on even the most calm days. it is the same with my sickness; its a turbulence that I’ve learned to dwell in, where i’ve tried to stand up weakly, but then a big waves comes and knocks me down. i live with an anxiousness of awaiting a bigger, stronger wave, and increasingly growing uncomfortable when things are calm.

in those turbulent waters, I’ve spent the better part of my 20’s. i’ve nearly suffocated from the waters, but in them i’ve also grown and aged. i’ve shed my youthful naiveté, my belief that life can be fair if you work and try hard enough. i’ve shed my invincible exterior, and all of life’s forces dealt me blows: unemployment, family betrays, depression, heartbreak, rejection, ocd, ugliness, and my head rotting from a poison prescribed by an apathetic doctor. in these turbulent waters i’ve shrunken to the smallest part of myself. gone is the smiling face, the resilient laughing. now, the tears flow constantly, and my ambitions are absent. all i do is try to focus outside of myself, because in these turbulent waters, i’ve lost who i am and where i want to be, where i can go.

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