Poem

    Many people who suffer with Lyme and related infections post videos of themselves on Youtube, showing their agony and explaining their condition.  I have watched those videos and it has given me comfort to know I am not alone.  I have read the suicide notes of many who have had Lyme and have succeeded in ending their lives.  It’s a fact of life that this is a terrible disease to have, and the parasite in the body initiating it is certainly not one to make the human host want to continue.

I had to diagnose myself about 4 1/2 years ago.  It took endless searches through medical conditions on Wikipedia and countless reads of Public Medical.  Mind you I was also trying to graduate from high school at the time.

But before I self diagnosed I was officially “Bipolar”, as in the doctors who were treating me at the time scribbled in my name on a little sheet and checked that box from the DSM diagnosis list off.

Then it changed to schzioaffective disorder, than anxiety, than repressed Freudian dreams.

I’ll stop there, because it does get worse.

 

 

In summary, I am not one to post videos of myself.  Maybe I will someday, but not today.  I have always been camera-shy and am a tad vain.  My good side isn’t showing today.   But I did write a poem.

 

 

 

 

 

The Body Decay And Death of Name

I had always heard my name, from the day,

I was born, skies torn

Open.

The sky was blue, the clouds were white-

Who am I and what shall I do?

I do remember my first Christmas night,

I do remember my name, wondered if it would

Bring fame.

I remember feeling a sense of that wonder one gets

From being under the sky clouds, blue-

Who am I and what shall I do?

I remember looking at the body and not knowing why

It was there, why I had hair

Or what I wanted to wear.

I learned clothes ands bodies alike gets tears;

And my tears, unlike the sky, weren’t blue-

Who am I and what shall I do?

I learned about the body decay and death of name-

Through pictures of the sins of Hitler-

But I still held fast to my body and name.

Then in what seemed like a day-

My hands grew weak and my mind fell insane.

But I still remembered my name.

The body decay felt like death;

My head wrapped in no longer halo, but ache-

And I did feel shame, and I did feel blame.

And I tried to persevere the whole way through;

Who am I and what shall I do?

The death of name came and death of fame too;

The skies seemed less blue,

And the body decay sped up and paralyzed my body all the way through-

Yet I still remembered my name.

Someday the death of name and body decay will approach you.

So who are you and what shall you do?

 

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