Challenges

The Least Of My Losses

There is no way, in your wildest dreams, that you could imagine what it feels like to live in a body that you cannot feel. In so many ways I am thankful for the loss of sensation that comes along with being paralyzed. If I could feel my legs, my back, my body, I imagine the pain would be more unbearable than the emptiness that I feel now. The ability to walk, however, is the least of my losses.

Losing My Self

To lose your body is one thing, but to be forced to let go of your identity is indescribable. As your firm and fit figure turns flaccid right before your eyes, one by one, your expensive designer jeans can no longer be jimmied into, and the hand you've used most of your mornings to apply makeup to mask your make-believed imperfections can no longer make it to your face — so you can forget about mascara.

The Weight Of This

I have avoided, somehow, so far, the inevitable breakdown. I know it's there though. I can feel it.
I continue to skip rocks across a sea of sadness.
Heavy is the weight that I carry. Now I am closer to the ground.

As I Sit Upon My Soapbox

The outlet provided by this project has already proven to be more encouraging than I could've conceived. What started out as an assignment meant to showcase a compilation of skills curated over the current semester has been cultivated into a soap box for my secluded soul — a way for me to bedazzle my “boo‑hoo” and broadcast it to the benevolent.