“What’s wrong?” you ask
But how do I explain an illness when you cant see the symptoms?
How do I say:
I have a headache caused by nothing that doesn’t fade
No matter how much water I gulp down,
A stomach that bubbles and boils with acidity
For no reason I can decipher other than fun;
My mind is in a constant war with my lungs
As if raising my hand to speak were the same as being
Chained to the ocean floor.
My eyes dart from space to space
As if some ghastly demon lies behind the shadows,
But everytime I check there is
Never
Anything
There.

So I close them.
I tell myself to breathe.
I try to regain my composure just long enough for no one to notice
And plaster on the smile that everyone else would like to see.
I lie to myself that if I pretend to be okay,
I will be.

“What’s wrong?”
You know, I’ve never been the crying type.
I was the kind of girl that would take an elbow to the nose and brush it off as a small bump.
I could scrape my knees on the pavement until they were raw and jump back up laughing
I could go the hospital and tell the doctor my pain was only a 7
When in fact my appendix was on the brim of bursting
And my only sensation was a burning nausea.

I told others to **** it up; to be strong;
To prove themselves more resilient than what people expected.

How then, did my laundry routine begin including the scrubbing of
Mascara stained pillowcases?
When did I suddenly switch from shaking off my pain to struggling not to
Bang my head
Against my bedroom wall until I bleed and
Give myself the coma I so wish I could be in.

“What’s wrong?”
You may only see a rhythmic tapping of my fingers but in reality
That tap tap tap tap tap
Is my SOS code.
My shaking leg resembling a nervous tic actually serves the purpose
Of releasing just enough energy so I dont go off the edge.
The sudden jerks of my head I laugh off are the physical proof
Of me trying to take off the thoughts that appear again and again
The voice that says:
“You are worthless.”
“Who could ever love you?”
“Don’t trust him”
“Don’t trust her”
Don’t trust yourself.

“What’s wrong?”
Its funny.
You may say it’s all in my head and ironically you’d be right,
But it’s not just in my head, it is my head.
This time the burning nausea is not something I can shake off.
I have an invisible snake suffocating my mind and body
Infecting me with a venom that
Finally makes me want to admit:
This is it!
This is the 10.

But how do I explain an illness when you can’t see the symptoms?

“What’s wrong?” you ask.
Nothing.