more writing - 3 years later

This feels like a bizarre time capsule. But I don't feel like making an entirely new blog for this nonsense. 

I'm in a creative writing class now, we're doing a lot of stuff with short stories/creative nonfiction. I figured that I'd try my chops at doing some personal writings, short stuff and maybe even poetry (I am trying to convince myself that cringe culture is dead). 

Also if you know me IRL (hi), kindly disregard. 

Here is a flash essay I wrote of my own accord: 

The first time I went to the neurologist she prescribed me a medicine that didn’t do anything at all and massage therapy that made my pain actively worse. I went to that massage therapist longer than I should have, who’s scars on her arms were so faded that it took me several visits to realize we matched. I laid there, staring at the faces emerging from the cream and brown speckled ceiling, hoping the young nature of my scarring didn’t make her relive what led her to hers. We chatted, both awkward and extroverted; I winced, her steady and experienced hands pressing into my back in a way that stung like fire. At one point her boob rested on my arm and once I got back to the car I laughed with so much discomfort someone could’ve thought I was going insane. It took me longer than it should have to admit the massage was doing more harm than good. I was so lucky that my insurance covered massage, such a luxury. So lucky to have insurance at all. But my muscles were tight for a reason: to keep my neck from falling off my shoulders. To keep me from falling apart. Turns out physical therapy would prove to be much more helpful in that regard. 

When they say make the water warm, make it so hot it almost scalds you. 

My mom told me a technique she learned online to help with migraines. While in the shower, groggy and miserable, turn the water as hot as you can bear and sit under it for five minutes. She felt the need to stress that I shouldn’t make it as hot as I can bear, because she knows me. Her and I are the same in that regard. She told me to make the water hot but not painful. The people writing the article didn’t need to specify. They weren’t writing for us, they were writing for most everyone else. This technique only worked while I was under the water. After I stepped out, the numbness subsided and the pain came back. What a waste of resources. 

When they say to go until you can’t, go until it hurts too much to bear. 

When I talk to people who aren’t constantly in pain, they look at me like I’m a puppy that was just kicked down a flight of stairs. When I talk to other people who are in pain constantly, I realize how pain-free I am. It's so little I can ignore it. If I sit and think, yes, its right there. My head and my back and my ankles and wrists and hips and neck all softly yelling. But if I ignore it it’s gone. I ignore it often. 

When they say to rest without guilt, become so guilty it is no longer rest. 

[475 words]

Okay that's it. Hope its not too emo. Cringe culture is dead cringe culture is dead this is cheaper than therapy cringe culture is dead cringe cul