Toll

I wish I had more to write about tonight. I tried to get ahead of my writing assignments to avoid stress and it worked but it feels weird not to write under the gun. I am not sure if I am giving my best self to the work because I know I have “time.”

Also, how in the world do people still not know it’s rude to point to someone with any ailment (in my case, psoriasis) and blurt out “What’s that?”

It’s been awhile since I have encountered people like that and today, when it was rudely asked of me (by someone who is most definitely an elder), I realized how genuinely tired I am. Tired of the scrutiny. Tired of the stares. Tired of the moments where I hesitate to show a little more skin. Tired of wishing I could go back and appreciate everything I had before this happened. Tired of thinking about whether I am doing the right or the wrong thing based on the state of inflammation.

Four and a half years have taken a serious toll on me.

Today is one of those days where I feel the weight of the toll.

And I will let myself feel it. I am not looking for a lesson. I will let myself be.

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