‘Having been damaged and no longer in one piece or in working order.’

Our fate isn’t written in the stars

It’s written into our genes

Embedded into the very essence of what makes us ‘us’

It’s stamped onto us before we are even born

And you go your whole life

Not even knowing that you carry this…this defect

Until it hits you

Boarding a plane to Cuba

When you can’t breathe and your mind starts spinning and your whole body feels clammy

Until it hits you

After the anxiety goes away

And you’re left with a big gaping hole where your full heart used to be and you can’t remember a time when happiness was real, not just a distant memory

Today I listened as Joey spoke to my family doctor on the phone

My father has the same doctor

Joey was filling him in on my possible flare and all the emotional toll work is having on me

And then the doctor said:

Look I get it, she feels judged by work. And then she goes over to her parents house and sees her father laying on the couch and she worries that will become her eventually. And it will, if she lets it’

I put a pillow over my head to drown out his voice

What they don’t understand

The medical professionals

The people around you

The ones who aren’t defected like you

Is that there is no perfect cocktail of medications

That will fix whatever is wrong

Because once you’ve lived with it for so long

What was once only written on your genes

With possibilities of never manifesting itself

It has now changed how you see yourself and the world around you

You have changed

You are not the same person you used to be

Picture a beautiful vase

It’s pristine and it sparkles


And then it breaks


The pieces can be glued back together

To look like a vase from the outside

But when you look closely

You see all the broken pieces

Held together by glue

I’m not saying that the vase is no longer beautiful

It still has the same pieces

It can still hold flowers

But we all know it is never the same again

It will always be the vase that is broken

And this is my fear

What happens when it breaks the second time?

Will it break into so many more pieces?

Will it just shatter?

So many pieces that it cannot be held together by even the strongest glue?

The beautiful vase that once was

We all know what happens next

The second time it breaks

You throw it out

Because now you know

That fucking vase is just too broken to be put back together

5 thoughts on “‘Having been damaged and no longer in one piece or in working order.’”

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