When I was first diagnosed with Multiple Personality Disorder, now known as Dissociative Identity Disorder, I heard the phrase, "it will get worse before it gets better" ad nauseum (adverb referring to something that has been done or repeated so often that it has become annoying or tiresome.).
These ill-advised, well-meaning oxymoronic beings had no idea how terrifying received were their words. They had no idea that I was already deeply enmeshed within the battle of all battles, the maelstrom of epic proportions and feeling pain and dispare en masse and past the overwhelming point. I was awash in fear and panic deep into my bones. The chaos was consuming me with every breathe, yet, wait for it, "it will get worse before it gets better?"
No, see, they did not know, I was already living at worse, wearing it and eating desperation for breakfast.
I could not make their nonsensical, fear-evoking words stop.
I was unable to convey the depth of the hell I was already living in.
Their words, those words Did Not Help Me and served no purpose other than to allow them to feel better about themselves by expounding their haughty "wisdom" onto someone already suffering.
My apologies. I used to hear those words every few days, every week and I carried that grief, that fear that there actually existed some heinous pain worse than I was already experiencing, like maybe apocalyptic monsters were around the next corner waiting to hurl nails, mace and chain into my flash, each of my days, like an identification card in my wallet warning me what's next.
There was no next.
There was no getting worse.
And I resent those words and how often they were used.
Granted, I was completely unable to convey my heavy suffering and that others could not have possibly known what turmoil boiled within me, but still...
I wish others had kept these words to themselves.
They did me no good, just harm.
And Amy, once again, walks into the cellar, rolls out a barrel of stored pain and smashes open the cask.
No comments:
Post a Comment