When Life Hands You Lymes #75

Good morning to all you wonderful people! Today I’m happy to have my computer working and my blog being updated at a reasonable hour. It’s one of those foggy, nearly raining mornings that are so beautiful. The world around me is bursting with greenness and I see raindrops clinging to the blades of grass and window panes like children playing piggyback. 
Can you believe that this is already the 75th segment of my fictional story When Life Hands You Lymes? I hope y’all enjoy! 

Some days I felt horrible. Other days I felt ok. And some days, those happy days that helped to spread hope to the tips of my toes, I felt as close to normal as I could remember feeling. 
It was then that the doubts started plaguing me. They scared me. Numbed me. Horrified me. I wasn’t supposed to feel like this. I was supposed to want to get better with every fiber of my being. Being sick wasn’t normal. Being sick wasn’t good. Being sick held me back from living the life I wanted to live. But it was my comfort zone. It was what I was used to. It was all I could remember. It took me a long time to admit it to myself, and even then I cringed with fear. I guarded my secret, didn’t even write it in my journal. I couldn’t let anyone know. I couldn’t say a single thing that would hint at the truth. Because if I did, then they would all know how bad I was. That I didn’t deserve to get better. That somehow, somewhere along the way I had changed. I might even be partly crazy. 
At night, though, my brain would come alive with fears. With different pictures of what could happen to me. I felt like I had to put on a show. I couldn’t, wouldn’t, dare not slip up and admit the truth. 
I was scared of being healed. I was frightened at the thought of being whole. I freaked out at the image that was never quite clear in my mind of a normal me. 
“Focus, Madalyn. Focus.” I took a deep breath then sat down at my piano. The swirling thoughts that were dancing around in my head confusing me soon took shape into notes as I ran my fingers over the keys. The shivers started in my legs and moved up to my arms as for the first time all week I began to have some sense of peace in my life. I closed my eyes and let my body sway with the music as I listened to my thoughts pouring out though a kaleidoscope of some unknown melody. 
I don’t know how long I sat at the piano bench, totally enthralled in the world I was creating, but eventually the pounding in my head subsided and my mussels began to relax. Pain became a memory and the anxiety I’d been bursting with transitioned into a deep stillness I could almost taste. 
What seemed like hours later I looked up to see Darrick leaning at the doorway, a sad smile on his face. 
I blinked, then continued feeling my way along the keys. 
Darrick didn’t say anything, but after a moment I felt him sitting on the bench next to me, a calm declaration of his support. I clenched and unclenched my jaw several times before finally giving into the tears that threatened and leaned into my brother’s embrace as I let the tears flow.

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