My wooby

I realized the past two years, my "wooby" or safety blanket is shutting down and hiding out. I am sick of facing people when I look so insane. I fear that people are disgusted, that they think this is something I have had my whole life and will continue to have, or that maybe they even think it's contagious. Writing that out I realized that I obviously care too much what people think anyways. Another reason I hide out is because when I am around my friends, I don't want people to feel super sorry for me because I will just cry and act like a baby. I would love to just get hugs and be told everything is going to be alright; but some part of me won't let that open up. Like I wont be strong if I do that. 

What I think about this whole ordeal is that it's absolutely the hardest thing I have ever been through and sometimes I want to give up. I am in pain most of my day and completing tasks and working and trying to enjoy life only induce more pain. How am I not depressed yet or addicted to painkillers? I dont even like taking ibuprofen in fear of adding another chemical to my body. I feel like I am going crazy but my body and mind have just adjusted to this sickness. Waking up flaky and tight every day, talking to people when I feel a pulsing throbbing in my face and neck, wearing long sleeves in a Texas summer. This is my life right now and there is nothing I can do to change the situation that I am in except my perspective. 

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