“The invisible me that nobody sees,
because it’s uncomfortable to acknowledge,
the me I’ve become.
“The person I was but can no longer be,
the me that I’d hoped for is gone.
“I fill in the space that I was,
but I’m not there anymore…
and nobody sees or they choose to ignore,
the me that I am here and now.
“Frustration and anger; perpetual grief,
bereavement in stages, my own body the thief.
“Locked in a prison of self turned on self,
denying my dreams by taking my health.
“I fill in the space that I was but am no longer there,
the void I’ve become, an excuse for existence,
the positive thoughts are now despair.
“When the simplest of tasks, straightforward pleasures,
resisted by limbs that refuse to comply,
no matter how hard I try to re-think it my body will still scream “deny!”
“But I adapt, I survive, and I live through the changes,
pick up the pieces as life re-arranges,
with determined grace and tranquil repose, a battle hard fought,
and acceptance that follows.
“Regaining a sense of self and of purpose,
despite limitations of life’s circumstances.
“A continual circle of pain and reward,
when we find an acceptance then,
hope is restored.”
By Rachel Beadle (2022)
