The meds make my mouth taste like metal
In the fog I stumble, blindly
Trying to find a scrap of me
I'm sick, but no one knows what that means
Because nobody sees
Why don't you drink coffee?
They ask when I say I have no energy
They don't understand as I try to explain
The pain the meds take away is replaced
With mind-numbing fog
Get some sleep! It'll help you feel better
I know that but
My body is a rebel
My mind an endless tangle of thoughts
And concerns that never stop
More medication required
Till I'm taking more pills that my grandparents
And it tastes like metal in my mouth
Recovery is really really hard.
I feel like I keep trading one problem for another.
Cancer is gone, Yay.
Cancer causes lots of stress, and so does creating an EP, and performing in two fringe shows.
I haven't recovered yet.
I'm on multiple medications for various things.
Sometimes my meds don't get along, and my mind is the field they battle upon.
I'm tired.
I leave for Rosebud in 11 days.
But I'm trying to find the off switch for the fog machine someone put in my brain.
There are rays of light, like long talks and walks in beautiful parks with wonderful people.
And I know today was especially difficult; there are good days and bad days, and I'm writing this post under extreme exhaustion. Who knows, I might read it tomorrow and delete it.
Please grant me grace in the upcoming days, as I adjust to the medications and side effects.
Much love,
Esther
