They’re still not coming on, man! And the lotion and the powder have made a paste!
i remember i laughed so hard i peed when i first saw
If you have an eyelash in your eye, you tend to drop everything you’re doing to try to get it out. Sometimes, you enlist the help of others and those people don’t question the validity of your discomfort and pain. You prioritized pain that was disruptive to your day and people understand. Short of handling something dangerous like driving a car, you’re going to stop what you’re doing and get that goddamn eyelash out of your eye. (And, lbr, if it’s really bad, you’re going to pull over to do something about it and people in the car are going to understand.)
People understand prioritizing pain and discomfort. Eyelash in the eye, twisted ankle, sliced finger cooking dinner, throwing your back out, people get and understand and help you through the process. Sometimes that help is a drive to the hospital and sometimes it’s sympathetic words.
When pain is provable, “I have a fever,” “I have a failing kidney,” “I have cancer,” that help and understanding is still there in varying forms.
When it isn’t, when pain and illness is invisible, that support goes away.
"Why are you stopping the car? You’re fine!"
You even lose the ability to prioritize it. You don’t know what’s wrong, but you know somethings wrong, but you can’t define it, so you just… start dropping things. Stop doing more and more and more until one morning you’re just laying in bed and you can’t do anything and everyone is mad at you because seriously you’re fine.
And even if you have loved ones and close friends that understand, even if they sympathize, there are people that don’t. And those people eat at you. Slowly, unconsciously sometimes, sometimes a big chunk at once, and you’re worse off because they are right, you’re fine! You should get up! You can do this!
But you really really can’t. Something was wrong, and you ignored it, so your body took over and pulled that damn car over for you so you can get the damn eyelash out of your eye.
What do you do when there is no eyelash?
I know this is a metaphor for mental illnesses, but it made me sad ‘cause I feel like it works for those invisible illnesses too, like my MS. In the past five years, I’ve gotten better at hiding the symptoms of my multiple sclerosis than I ever have at hiding symptoms of depression or anxiety, because if you tell someone you’re in physical pain when they can’t see it, they just think you’re lying. They think “you’re 25, have no visible problems and look like you’re in great shape- you must be faking it”.
"ruby slippers, where are you now?
i wanna go back but i don’t know how.
ruby slippers, what are you good for?
can we make it, make it like it was before?
we’re not in kansas anymore.”
when ur eating dinner at your friends house
and their parents start arguing
and you want to ask for the salt
but the salt is right in between their upcoming divorce