Breaking

For a moment, I have allowed myself to be dramatic. Just for this very moment. I have had pink eye for about 10 days now. The beginning days went from manageable to complete misery. I am beginning to feel like my eyes, now both infected, are doomed to be this way forever. Don't forget I'm allowing myself to be dramatic. I have been unable to attend school for longer than 2 hours, with tissues in hand wiping away tears that classmates probably guess are from sadness or allergies. And those are both good guesses, two guesses I wish would settle for truth.

At night time, I struggle between the desire to rest, and the desire to prevent having my eyes crust over, and be forced open upon waking through painful pulls of the eyelids. My pink eye could not have come at a worse time. I have finals this week, and the past week I stood with a laptop in front of me, my nose pressed to the screen, banging out two eight page papers. And I wouldn't be so weary and irritated if I had good vision to begin with. But I do not. And during the course of when I need my glasses the most, my eight month old puppy has decided my glasses would be a far better meal than an object for corrective vision.

I'm at my breaking point. I fear this will take me through this week, and I do not think I can handle that. I have dreamed of being healthy, attending work, and a majority of my day is spent chastising myself for not appreciating my good health when I have it. My pink eye is severe. Me? I am exaggerating. It could be worse. I could be sicker. I could be dealt a most unfortunate circumstance far too many precious souls have the strength to undergo on a daily basis. But that is me. And I am tired. And I promise to be more appreciative when I am healthy. I am breaking. I am weak, and I am dramatic. Just give me health. I will change.