Screenshot_20170424-063246In the late hours, when it seems that everyone else is asleep, my blood cells are restless. They are awake, trying to force themselves through veins made for normal red blood cells to travel through. They stick together to keep the “normal” rbcs from getting through because now it’s a competition brought on by jealously. It isn’t fair that they have the disadvantage, being abnormal. So everyone else must suffer. Even me, the one who has been ┬ákind enough to give them a home. I have to suffer because they are vengeful. They want me to pay for housing them in this body that was not made for them. So, in the late hours, when it seems that everyone else is asleep, I am restless. I am in pain. I am suffering. I am exhausted, but wide awake because I am cursed with defective red blood cells in my veins.

“You Don’t Look Sick.”

Is what they say when they can’t fathom how a person that looks normal can be experiencing so much pain and suffering. See to them, a pain like that must be visible or else it’s not real. You have to look feeble or be screaming, writhing, and crying every time they ┬ásee you for your pain to be real. Because there is no way that you could be walking around with your head held high, smiling, or working to accomplish the same things they are accomplishing if you are experiencing that pain. That would mean you are superhuman or sort of extraordinary and that’s impossible. Nobody is really extraordinary. Yeah, we may tell people that sometimes to communicate how special they are to us, but we don’t really mean that. We say it for lack of better words because deep down we know that everybody is ordinary. No one is really “special.” That’s why they say “you don’t look sick.” They have not yet understood the way of a warrior.