#grief for myslef as i was before i began experiencing symptoms

[feech]

Last year around this time my mom asked me if halloween was my favorite holiday (it is) and why. My dad jokingly answered that it's the only widely celebrated holiday in the US That doesn't have Christian roots (cue conversation about Christianity adopting/stealing celebrations and traditions from other cultures) which yeah true and fair and probably a small part but my actual reasoning (at the time i was thinking about how autism affects my life and always has) was that its a time when we celebrate the weird and different and macabre we embrace the other at halloween and as someone who always felt very other it was nice to not have to work as hard to fit in because the weirdness was celebrated

Anyway I had a horrible day of pain and brain fog and began thinking about it in the similar but different lens of chronic illness or disability and wrote this little piece. The first draft was close to unintelligible due to the aforementioned brain fog but has been edited and is brought to you now by insomnia

Why do i love halloween?

Maybe its because

I could be a zombie

The way my body falls apart beneath me. no thoughts push through the fog in my head. no feelings exist but a resigned numbness as my shambling limbs fail to go through even the most basic of functions.

I could be a vampire

The way i sleep all day in an attempt to regain energy i never had to begin with and because of the blood i drink when my lips dry and crack. what does it matter if its my own?

I could be a witch

The way my medicine cabinet looks like it should belong to someone 3 or 4 times my age and how i keep trying potion after potion and pill after pill hoping something will help.

I could be a corpse

The way my skins pales and hands freeze and cheeks hollow because i cant eat and how my joints ache in protest to even the slightest movements.

I could be a werewolf

The way my body changes so quickly and so completely because of factors i cannot control. I dont recognize myself in a mirror and my abilities are miles away from what they might've been before. I can barely remember before.

I could be a ghost

The way i hover transparent barely able to interact with my surroundings. never fully there even on my best days. how i wail and moan through the night when i cant sleep because of the pain.

Maybe i love halloween because I fit in here, with all the other monsters.

Is this a poem?

A love letter?

A rant?

I dont know.

You decide.

Everyone from doctors to strangers get to judge and make decisions about my body .

You might as well have my writing too.

While we're at it,

When i die,

Take my bones.

They can be the skeleton on your front porch steps.