In The Dark

I always loved the sunshine. I adored the beach on a sunny day. I’d sit on the patio and stare up at the sky. My body seemed to crave the sunlight. It made me strong and positive. I left the lights in the house on. I felt safer in the light. I noticed I’d get depressed if I didn’t have enough light. I was more prone to bouts of sadness in the winter. Rainy days were days for me to reflect, think too much, and cry. It’s funny what a difference almost five years of chronic migraine and Fibromyalgia can make. Not funny like ha ha. Ironic funny.

Now, I find comfort in the dark. I never used to. I feel safe here. I’m awake for most of the night. I record my thoughts. I read stories when the migraines allow. I just sit in the dark, curled up in my favorite chair. Usually with a lapful of purring tuxedo cat. Samantha lulls me into a comfortable state of mind. I don’t cry much at night. I’m almost content. The pain fades into the background. Maybe knowing I don’t have to do anything or go anywhere. There’s no stress. I can almost pretend that my life is normal.

Then morning comes. I’m rudely shaken from my safe place. It gets lighter outside. The birds and squirrels grab Sam’s attention. She’s off to the window. I think about what I need to get done. I wonder if I’ll get to do any of it. The pain comes back to the forefront. I’m stripped of my security bubble. I have to try to function. Act like a “normal” person. Deal with reality. Be responsible. In the light of day, it’s hard to hide. I don’t want to be seen. I’m not who I was before. It’s not as obvious at night. I can pretend things are okay.

I’ll struggle through this day because I have to. I’ll do what I can and try not to feel guilty about what I can’t. I’ll smile and, if asked, say I’m doing pretty well. The entire time just waiting for nighttime to return. To get back inside my cloak of darkness. My safe place. My world. wpid-img_20150323_064829.jpg

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