Woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, full of sadness. I did not want to be here. Another day in this place that I am trying my darndest to leave. I just couldn’t take it. But I got up. Then my kitty cheered me up. That seems to be her job, and she’s pretty good at it too. Even though I am due to move next month, it seems surreal. Like is it really going to happen? There are people applying for where I live now. And they’re fighting over it. So that’s a good thing. But it’s not done until it’s done, until they have their name on the dotted line. Then it’s done. So I wait. Wait for another week to go by, when I can begin to transport my things over to the new place. But I don’t have enough people to help move yet. What do I do? I’m so picky now a days. Growing up does that to you. Or at least it did that to me. Because I learned things, important things. Like if their pupils become pin dots, do not let them help you move. And if they hang around large groups of people on a regular basis, that’s probably a bad thing too. Because even if they’re the nicest people in the world, somebody in that crowd is going to be up to no good. And it’s best they don’t have your address, nor a peak inside at whatever you are moving into the house. No not a good idea, sorry to those who wished to help. So what do I do? I don’t know yet. That is the bliss of life, sometimes. 

Meanwhile I have other things to worry about, like practicing singing, and memorizing a song. I need to bring back some clothes. I have to get to UPS and send them back. For some reason this is so much harder then it looks. But that’s just me. See, I had a few things happen to my head, called poisoning. So the little things, like getting somewhere, anywhere, is so much harder then it is for a normal person. But I digress…Oh but I must explain. There are pieces missing. There are pieces which are whole. I can still do some things, and not others. That’s just the way it is. It’s my life to figure out how to work around these obstacles. It’s called brain damage. I know I don’t seem like it. I’ve been told that I am intelligent. I hope so. I was a genius before all of this happened. But now I am pieces of a whole. And it is in what pieces that work that I am sewing together my life. But the pieces missing, just make everything that much harder. 

I remember the day that I was living in a cabin in the country. It was the old depot. There was a knock on my door. A man explained to me that I had been being poisoned for two years, and the water had gases and chemicals in it, btex, tuolomene, to name just two. He handed me some free water jugs filled with bottled water for drinking. He handed me some papers with information on it, and told me that I would need to stay in a hotel down the road for a few days. They would pay the bill, and it was already done and ready for me. Here was the key. 

As I stood there stunned, everything made sense, it came together. The suffering, the fainting spells at work where I had to run into the bathroom and lean on the wall to hold me up, my head spinning, and this feeling that was like I was being knocked out. I had to stand there, and revive myself enough to go back to work. And the time at the refrigerator, when everything started to black out… I couldn’t see very much, as my eyesight became quickly covered in black, like a hole that was closing in on itself. I ran for the door outside and made it to the chair on the porch. I was scared that I was going to die. Since I didn’t know what was happening to me, I figured that I had a chance to be found if I could make it to that chair. If I passed out inside, it might take them too long to find me. I could die. I might. I didn’t know what was happening. But I was woozy and my eyes were quickly losing the ability to see. When I made it to the chair, my life flashed before my eyes. Why had I been so sick for so many years? I could barely keep anything down. I was woozy as a daily event. Something was wrong. But no one would listen to me. And here I was going to die. I thought about my boyfriend that I had at the time. We’d been going out for several years. All of the times that he was mean, and would tear me down, all of the times that he made me cry, and tried to tell me that I was wrong about everything, anything, no matter what choices that I made in my own life, no matter what classes that I took at the college, no matter what “I” thought, no I was always wrong to him. For he belittled me and taunted me. We loved each other. That was a sure thing. But it wasn’t enough, not to cover up all of the pain that he caused me, what he stole from me, my piece of mind. I decided right then, that if I made it out of this alive, that I was breaking up with him. 

Copyright Kat Lyons 

1st Picture Reblogged:yippikiyay   2nd Picture Reblogged :girlinlondon