By Krystina | #Wheelstrong

This Wasn’t the Plan

This is not how I pictured I’d be living my life at 34.
But here I am.
Every glorious inch of me wretched in pain…
nerve pain, muscle pain, musculoskeletal pain…
pain pain, if there is such a thing.

Sitting on my shower chair,
too tired to cry, too numb to scream.
Smoking a blunt, balanced in chopsticks like some MacGyver creation.
Because that’s what survival looks like now.
A strange, patched-together kind of grace.

Alone.
Unloved.
Unwanted.
And fully convinced the world wouldn’t skip a beat
without my burdensome soul.

I’ve climbed mountains of grief
with nothing but stubbornness and scraps of hope.
I’ve smiled through storms that would’ve drowned stronger souls.
I’ve stayed positive when everything around me turned to ash.
And still…
I feel like a puzzle even God gave up on putting back together.

But I’m still here.
And maybe that’s the most defiant thing of all.