Staying Alive

prompt or not: "staying alive"
aww ~ 4/16/14
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A year ago, in April, 2013, I wrote a poem entitled PN.

I gave it that title because I didn't want people to think I'm a complainer or a dismalist or a whiner or a downer-in-the-mouth. If I give the poem a title explaining exactly what I am referring to, people might think I'm attention seeking or playing the victim card.

I posted the poem online, in a support forum for people suffering with PN, that is peripheral neuropathy. One of the responses came from a man who suffers with this dastardly disease; he stated something to the effect that this illness does not have to define our lives.

My immediate internal response was, He's right. I *shouldn't* allow this illness to define me. I *shouldn't* be negative; I need to be hopeful. Mine was a knee-jerk internal reaction, like an automatic reflex programmed from somewhere deep in my brain. I'm wrong; he's right. Am I allowing this illness to define me? I didn't publicly respond with a comment, but I did click the "like" thumbsup button, because I felt I *should*...that I *should* be more positive.

The man then posted a response poem - words to encourage. I felt he was trying to help me out of a gutter. But I hadn't asked for help, had I? I don't even know if I was in a gutter. And even if I was, so what.

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PN

Some days it burns
Some days it aches

Every day it lingers
Every day it weakens
Every day it exacts

A toll

Quarters
Tokens
Tolls
Accessing parkways to meander
Accessing highways to faster

But this toll
Accessing fatigue that drains
Accessing despair that pines for death

I just do not know
if I have what it takes
to pay this toll

My pouch approaches bankruptcy
Time for a loan

4/11/13
me
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