Listen. Or don't. But if you don't listen to the words, then maybe the voice in your head is broken. I can't fix that. I'm still trying to fix myself.
I decided that I need help. Not in an existential, the world is falling sort of way, but in a very real, "Sometimes I don't know how to deal with this" sort of way.
I am a performance poet, so I'm used to giving the audience a piece of who I am. Every performance, however, is just that. It's a performance. The stage is hyperbole. We inflate ourselves in order to stand tall and walk with bravado unbecoming our normally small stances. We deflate ourselves to seem small enough to be relate-able. But this is a monologue. No one ever asks the sun if it gets tired of shining.
I haven't asked myself if I'm okay in a long time. Maybe because I didn't want to give the answer a voice. It's easy to ignore something when you can't hear it. It's easy to pretend things aren't broken when you don't get them checked. Sorry, I just turned this into a stage again. Too much hyperbole in that last sentence.
I'm not broken. I'm just not sure where the pieces quite fit anymore. I still haven't come to terms with being diagnosed with diabetes. 18 years later, I should be warning my childhood about the dangers of smoking since its legal now. But I've been refusing to admit there's a fire.
Anyhow, I'm still hyperbolizing. I like the idea of being able to change the shape of my problems. Maybe, if I can blow them up, I can work them in reverse too. It's just a pity that my problem fits so well inside of me that I sometimes forget the difference.
I decided to ask for help. My endocrinologist, a doctor that works with the hormonal systems and, more specifically, with diabetics, gave me the number to a counselor who works with diabetics. Truth is a scary thing to let free.
It shouldn't be.
If you need help, talk to someone.
They say that the universe listens when you make requests. Every atom in our bodies was once inside a star somewhere. How lucky are we to have ears made of stardust? The universe is closer than you might think. Maybe that's why stars twinkle like eyes; why constellations are drawn in your palms; why your smile reminds me so much of the sunrise...
Why you think the wind whispers your name. It does.
Step one to recovery is being aware that there is a problem.
Step two starts today.
