I was upset about something and I started to feel weak and tired. Within an hour it continued to get worse. And worse. And worse. I try to form the words with my mouth but no sound will come out. Like I had forgotten how to take formed thoughts and turn them into speech. I guess the muscles that control my voice and my mouth are too weak.
Or maybe I was alone so much before that I never spoke. Maybe I never realized, I never knew. In the mornings I can’t move, I can’t open or close my eyes, I can’t blink. I’ve accepted this, this is old. During the day there are times where I can’t speak. This feels like a fresh wound, still aching and new.
I want to stay home, but some family is having a cook-out. I want to go. So I write notes, I try to predict what kind of things people will ask me. I write a note to say yes and another to respond no. I write a note telling them what’s wrong with me. I write a sarcastic note for when they ask me how I’m doing. “I’m good”. I carry a notepad and a pen so that I can write more if there is more that I needed to say. I pull on my You Matter hoodie to stay warm, and in case I needed a hug.
I’m thinking so many things at once, but I can’t express them to the people around me. I want to cry but I smile instead. I see an old friend and hug them. We sit inside and “chat” using a notepad instead of sitting outside, surrounded by everyone. It was kind of nice, spending time with people instead of staying in. Sometimes I can’t say it aloud, so I write instead.