Featured: Who am I really?
Trust Game"All right, let's go swing," Nanna said. We'd been sitting at the park near my little sister Cindy's apartment, opening presents for her twenty-second birthday.Trust Game by hopeburnsblue
"Oh my God, I wasn't actually serious about that!" I laughed, though I felt a wistful pang when I thought about those swings, which were rigged so high that they probably violated safety code somehow. I'd been in a wheelchair for four months following a rail platform accident, and although I was well on my way to recovering, attempting to swing, especially on that swingset, probably wouldn't have been the safest bet.
"You a chicken?" she teased, smiling.
"No, just don't want to break my leg ... again."
"Paula, you're not serious?" Grumps all but begged.
"This is suuuuch a bad idea," Cindy groaned at the same time.
"All right, all right ... I'll try it. Y'all will have to wheel me out there, though. I don't trust myself to navigate this place in the chair. It's been too long since I've been here."
With considerable misgi
Light Particles Will Find Me"All I see," Jordan says with a smile in his voice, "is the silhouette of a naked woman standing over me."Light Particles Will Find Me by hopeburnsblue
For I'm not sure what reason, I am standing astride his lower legs. I bounce experimentally on the balls of my feet, testing my balance on the mattress.
"You can see me?"
"Yes, because there's a little light in the window."
"So much for this sitting in the dark experiment."
Bounce. I turn to look over my shoulder.
"I can kind of see that, actually. My night vision is oddly clear, sometimes. My pupils open up even more than yours because they're trying to find light. Sometimes it's startling, but most of the time, it's kind of cool. Maybe I'm secretly a cat."
I reposition. Bounce again. Jordan breathes steadily, even though I know he's amused.
"Sometimes, I even sense a faint light source when I'm in the shower and have forgotten to turn on the light. But I always wondered whether I might be imagining that, you know, because my eyes try to process so much that maybe I see t
2014Being at work scared him anymore, as he never knew what state he would find his wife in; if she would even be alive when he got home. There had been times he had to go home on his lunch to check on her for his sanity's sake. He did not mind it, but it worried him so much.2014 by PennedinWhite
As he entered the apartment, he knew something was not right. His wife was no where to be seen, and he could hear the soft sounds of broken tears. When he found her, his heart crumbled. She was hidden in the back of the closet, unaware of his presence just outside of the door. He recognized her tears and her soft muffled cries. They were struggling together to help her; to help her see the light in life, but everyday was a new battle. He listened for several minutes, not really sure how to approach this situation. It was always the same underlying issue, but it presented itself in many different ways. He could feel the tears welling up in his own eyes as he listened to her pain, wishing he could just take it away. Slo
|ItDoesNotHaveMe is an awareness group on deviantART started by opioid after unexpected but incredibly positive feedback for her Lyme Disease article on dA's editorial news. It is a place where artists coping with illness--either physical or mental, their own or a loved one's--can seek out a headquarters for awareness and expression.|
Submissions to the group's gallery should be directly related to an illness or condition. There must be a mention of this illness or condition in the Artist's Comments.
"I've spent 7 weeks on a psychiatric ward, and was discharged today! I was also given a diagnosis of Anxiety Avoidance Personality Disorder - has anyone else here received that diagnosis? It would be nice to chat with someone!"
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