When i think of myself, the one word I hate to use is “strong”. That word to me is a reflection of all the scars I hide behind my smiles.
I hate when I am told not to question God because there are a lot of things I need answers to that only he can provide. I think the big guy either hates me or thinks of me in a way I do not think I ever want. I stared in the mirror this morning amazed at how God gives us battles that stretch us but we can always handle. I stared in that same mirror tonight and wondered why he chose to stretch me this much.
As i type this, I am teary eyed and on the verge of tears. I am tired. Of being strong that is. This is one of those moments I really just want to be hugged tightly. Sadly, that is the one gesture I barely get. Emotions. I barely get those and a chance to collapse into someone on days like this.
Last week, I questioned God more than five times. It was just one of those weeks when I felt the walls closing in on me and I was gasping badly for air with no hand to pull me out. I drown. In the scars I was created to have and the fear that more scars await my future.
Some people say pray about it. Like I somehow do not understand spiritual authority or I am being plagued by the devil. Like God does not allow us be sick and sometimes, even die. Like we do not just try our best by praying, only to say “Let your will be done”. Like If we prayed on mountains and wept, It will definitely change the outcome. It may but only if he wills. I have prayed, wept and maybe touched the hem of his garment. Only to be left this way. Along the hospital corridor, hands in palm, scared for my nearest future.
I hate the smell of hospitals. It reminds me of the many nights I spent wondering if the next breathe will be my last. They remind me of the days I was stranded in between walls when all I wanted was to be outside playing. Years later, this smell still pulls me, reminding me that I am a victim. An unfortunate addition to the strongest avengers list.
On days like this, I like to cry. Weep. Hug myself. Wipe the tears and wish I will get that tight hug. The much needed one. The one that feels like life sucks a little less. I begin a journey to the hospital again tomorrow and my heart is beating fast, eyes are teary. This is how it all starts. Months of tireless tests, injections, drugs and every other thing I have hated since I was a kid.
No, do not be sad for me. I just wrote this in place of getting my tight hug. I may wake up tomorrow and no longer feel this way. This feeling however, had to be documented because it is one I have had for years but never welcomed.
I am not settling, ever. Until I get the kind of love that hugs me tight on days like this and makes me bury myself in them. Until someone holds me and I feel like I can breathe a little more on days like this. I deserve that at least.
I have been telling people how I keep feeling stuffy in open spaces recently but no one seems to understand it. I can not run from this. On days like this, I wish I had more emotions and love being handed out to me so I feel less claustrophobic. I can not breathe. No, really. I really can not breathe.
No one notices when the strong one is tired of being strong — Unknown
Sometimes a silent hug is the only thing to say.— Robert Brault
