Band-aid.

I put a band-aid on a wound that won’t heal.

The root of infection is within me. The cause is unknown. Whatever it is, it drains me of energy. I don’t know how long it’s been, maybe months.

I ask myself, how could I let this happen? Then I reply, how could you gaslight yourself into thinking there was nothing wrong? There is something wrong and there has been for a while.

This is normal, I keep telling myself. It’s normal to feel this way. To feel exhaustion, to feel pain. It’s part of being alive. But when do the aches and pains of being alive, become the aches and pains of being sick? When do you relinquish control and say to someone please help me?

I’ve always been one to find a solution. I have always been pushed to be strong. By my family, by my loved ones, by my friends, by me. Be strong, Marianne. Because you’re all you have. And people need you to be strong.

But tonight, while I’m here alone, I’d like to be weak. To be frail and vulnerable. To accept that I’m not as strong as I’d like to be. To say I don’t know the answers and that I don’t know what my future holds.

Inside, I truly feel weak. I don’t know if my willpower is weak today, or if it’s because I’m sick. Or if it’s because I’m emotional.

It would be nice, I guess if someone would just let me complain, cry, mope, and brood but it’s unlike me to allow someone to hold that burden for me. Instead, I find an outlet like this one.

Let yourself be weak tonight, Marianne. Let yourself go. You’ll forget this in the morning…

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