Symphony of Symptoms

Every day is a symphony of symptoms,

An array of ailments,

Some new bodily defects that arise as I arise from my bed in the morning with the sun.

My joints are stiff, not because I rolled them too tight but because I stopped rolling altogether.

Getting sober has my joints snap crackle and popping.

Every morning I am greeted with fireworks in my skull,

The fire in my stomach crackles like damp wood.

I can no longer put audio to all of my ailments

When I stopped using ale and other substances to ease my tensions--

My muscles tense as I choose an outfit that will express who I am today.

Choose which side of me gets to come out while living the life of no choices.

Who I am is only expressed through who I choose not to be, while fitting in is the new standing out

But if I’m not anything special…

then why do I feel so alone?

Special and different have always seemed synonymous but in 12 steps anonymous we are one,

One addict

One child

Who tried to fix something within

We fixated on escaping

We needed to think we were special.

I liked it better when I thought I was special

The only one who felt like this

It made me think the world was less empty,

That there was hope to be gained.

And when I am not special

I realized the whole world was also empty.

Fixated on a substance to ease our withins

Fixated on escaping the pain.

When I was a child a scream formed inside me,

It has been metastasizing ever since

The words I could not say,

The boundaries I could not make,

The people, places, and things I could not leave.

When the leaves fall with the changing season it gives me comfort that I too, one day will be able to shed what I have outgrown--

But I cannot outgrow something I do not know how to fit in.

How can I let my screams out,

When I've barely let these feelings in?

When each new day brings a new array of ailments,

I rise with the rays of the sun outside of my window.

I make a beginning.

Peeling myself off my bed

I do not scream.

I continue living, despite my symphony of symptoms continuing to crescendo with each movement-

I do not scream.

Moving my muscles-

I do not scream.

Trying to change these thoughts-

I do not scream.

Ironically, it is in the groups of anonymous who say such the anomaly:

You are not alone anymore

“Prove it!”

I screamed.