Behind the Mask

Today was an alright day.  But last night, I was struggling.  It had been a long, rough day and I was ready to be done with everything.  However, in the midst of everything, a friend was struggling too.  And it reminded me of the mask that people with chronic illness wear just to get through each day and allow everyone else to see them as more than a weak human being. Especially when the illness is unseen.  So here is my little excerpt on Behind the Mask...

Behind the Mask

            It’s with me no matter where I go or what I do.  Whether I am at the grocery store or church, it is on.  Whether I am at work or at home, it is on.  But, when I’m alone in my room at night and have snuggled into bed that is when it comes off.  It hangs on my bedpost as I sleep.  No one can see it, but I know it is there.  Sometimes it haunts me more than protects me.  Some people call it face.  Others call it nothing.  I call it my mask. 

            It didn’t used to be this way.  I used to move about my life freely.  I was myself!  I laughed when I wanted to, and I cried when I wanted to.  I was human.  But being human led to human illnesses.  Chronic illnesses even.  My life became about medical doctors and every specialist out there.  My dietary regiment became whatever was needed to suit my medicines and my purse became my personal pharmacy.  My checkbook wrote more checks to doctors’ offices than to anywhere else a normal young woman would go.  A girl’s day out became a thing of the past.  My life was stolen from me by chronic illness. 

            Very few people see the me behind the mask...