And the walls kept tumbling down….

yesterday i had to ask my best friend to walk me to the chemist.                            

it’s two streets away, but i just couldn’t do it on my own.

my friend is wonderful, but i still felt pathetic. 
today i had to get some blood tests. just routine tests that i have done regularly. 

but, it felt like an impossible feat.

i took a double dose of diazepam & was still overwhelmed.

i began to cry when the nurse was taking blood 

i found i could not stop 

and, so spent a humiliating half hour trapped in waiting room toilet,

desperate not to share my fragile state with strangers. 

now, i am home. Hating myself for all the things that i haven’t done. 

from housework to commissions. 

i don’t want to be back here,

frozen in panic

gobbling pills to survive another day.

i thought I was closing the book on blood

&

stitches

&

shame. 

not so. 

here i am once again mired in it.

even more frightening this time as i have more to lose.

and

because it’s a brutal reminder that there is no cure

this illness can crush me at anytime 

control is an illusion.