I have tried medication, no medication, herbal remedies, meditation, cognitive behavior therapy, raw diets, vegetable diets, physical and nuclear therapy.
These were all stabs in the dark, blindfolded hits to a piñata pulled all the way up.
This is the beauty of hosting a rare takeover.
The one no one knows the name but is sure their cousin’s sister’s aunt has it.
I am helpless and so are the doctors who are just “practicing”.
The husband does not understand. I have had this diagnosis for years, should I not be prepared by now?
What remains when hope is pulled like a rug from under your feet?
I was not expecting a cure dammit.
I wanted some peace.
Some, just a bit.
I wanted a few more years before the dailyness of the pain refused to be hidden, before the mask would not stay affixed.
Just a few, like seven.
I am angry., fucking pissed.
What are the odds that every burning timber of a house would fall on my head?