by Grace O’Connor ’22
Being patient makes her head spin and her nausea take over.
Being patient makes her feel like she is locked in a small space,
With the walls closing in on her, darkness preparing to give her a suffocating hug.
Being patient leaves marks on her skin of irritation and fear.
Being patient leaves her forgetting how to breathe,
As she attempts to force air into her shallow lungs, her heart pounding for mercy.
Being patient makes her forget how to live.
Being patient makes her thoughts stab her brain like nails,
Piercing through soft tissue, paving the way for her lifeline to trickle down.
Being anxious feels more natural to her.
Being anxious allows her to give in to her own worst enemy,
Providing herself temporary relief and a quick moment to breathe.
What’s the difference between the two?
Being patient is how she is told to act and being anxious is instinctive to her.
What’s worse one may ask?
She doesn’t know, and will she ever?
She craves a quick fix, giving in to her inner vices,
As patience looms in the far distance, unreachable from darkness’s tight hug.
She yearns for normalcy,
Wondering day by day if she’ll ever feel that true bliss.
Every year she is one step closer in this taxing marathon.
She knocks down barriers that her mind puts in her way.
Stopping herself from giving in to temporary fixes,
Learning how to embrace patience despite how excruciating it may be.
Why do you care so much?
If only her overworked mind was willing to listen all the time,
This battle would be easy.
But does growth come easy? Never.
She will never stop fighting.