Pills.
This week
has all been pills, pills, pills.
I wake up
unable to walk and reach for the codeine.
I end up in
the doctor's chairs and magnesium vitamins are making their way down my throat.
I wake up
with a cracking headache and I reach for the paracetamol.
The next day
it’s the cold and the lemsip capsules are jumping into my hand.
When we get
to the final day and its all body aches, fevers, and swollen glands there’s not
much left, so hey lets take them all together.
But what
happens when there is no pill you can take to get rid of the pain. The pain
inside. The pain of losing your inspiration. The pain of losing yourself. The
pain of being hurt.
This week
has been the worst week of my life. I might have fought off malaria this year.
I might have had my kidneys start to fail. I might have been forced into cold
turkey from my addictions. But no, this week was the worst.
Why. Well I
never want to have to go in a broken circle again.
You break up
with someone and the cuddle you want is your Grandfather.
Your
Grandfather dies and the person you want to talk to breaks up with you.
It goes on
and on. Again and again. No release until you realise you are just empty and
upset. No cure for that if you want to keep your soul. But is your soul even
there to keep. Not really.
When I look
at why I am sitting here shivering grabbing that lemsip an hour too soon, I am
not surprised my body just gave up. I would have if I was trying to run round
in circles after my emotions.
There aren’t
any left, no tears left to cry, no migraines left to start, no pills left to
take.
Grief. That’s
the illness, and memories are the only cure.
Memories of
greatness, inspiration and strength. Strength you have to channel when that
person steps out of your life, and just feel their comfort and their happiness
of taking that next step. Because while this is one journey, there next one has
just begun, hand-in-hand with the one they love. I love you Grandfather, thank
you for making me dream and stand on my own two feet.
