I am worth it



I am too weak, paralysed, blank, lacking in coordination to draw at all at the moment, I don’t know when or if it will come back. I never know.

My husband made this besutiful poster for me.

Here is an additional extract from a piece I wrote about revelation for a writing competition:

“What would it feel like to be heard, seen, acknowledged, recognised, respected for who I am, including that hidden, invisibly ill, unseen part of myself? I don’t want pity. I want my context understanding so I don’t endlessly feel I have to explain myself.

I don’t want to have to deny the agony I am in and which I struggle to communicate through, as if it is not there.
I don’t want people to pretend that I don’t exist, that I don’t literally sit or lie, paralysed all day, completely unable to do anything and every moment’s existence for me is a massive struggle of vast proportion.
I don’t want to live in fear of misinterpretation, misrepresentation, mistreatment.
I want to be able to say this is who I am. See me. Know me. Enjoy my friendship.
Don’t make unreasonable demands I cannot meet. Don’t put wrong expectations upon me. Don’t take advantage of me. Don’t rescue me or persecute me, don’t make me more ill by careless unaware actions. Listen to me.
Recognise my life for what it is and still make the effort to engage with me. I am worth it.”
(Art and Words by Linda Crowhurst)

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