I told myself to feel relieved, and maybe I did for a little while, but by the time I got home,
I could hear the whisper starting up again, that something was definitely wrong with my stomach since the gnawing ache wouldn’t go away.
I think, You will never be free from this. I think, You don’t pick your thoughts.
I think, You are dying, and there are bugs inside of you that will eat through your skin. I think and I think and I think.
NINE
BUT I ALSO HAD A LIFE, a normal-ish life, which continued.
For hours or days, the thoughts would leave me be, and I could remember something my mom told me once: Your now is not your forever.
I went to class, got good grades, wrote papers, talked to Mom after lunch, ate dinner, watched television, read.
I was not always stuck inside myself, or inside my selves. I wasn’t only crazy.
On date night, I got home from school and spent a solid two hours getting dressed.
It was a cloudless day in late September, cold enough to justify a coat,
but warm enough that a sleeved dress with tights could be managed.
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