It's All In Her Head

This piece is an attempt to show how frustrating it can be having a mostly invisible chronic illness. To feel like your body is screaming for you to sit down, but you can't find a seat. I sometimes wish I had a bleeding wound in the middle of my head to show how much pain I am in. To show people that when the lights are too bright, too many people are talking and I am interrupted, I will completely forget what I was saying. That when I am in a flare up, I will often struggle to even make a sandwich, because I can't remember what to do first. Get the bread out? Spread the butter? How many plates do I put out? How many family members do I have again? And I will just stand motionless in the kitchen crying silently because I don't want my kids to hear. I look fine. I sound fine. But at times, I am lost in my own head. I sometimes want to strip away the layers and show my illness. What it looks like to me. What it feels like.