This is a poem that I’ve had in my drafts for some time.

As you can tell, I was quite angry and frustrated when I wrote this and it is darker than it probably should be but I thought I should share as the message is an important one.

In conversation with other people facing health challenges, it comes up all too often how frustrating it can be to try and explain how they are feeling to others, especially when managing an invisible illness.

How often has someone asked you how you are but their face tells you they don’t know how to handle the answer?


I am done trying to explain how I’m unwell when you’ve stopped listening.
Responding to ‘how are you’s‘ only to hear silence when you read my answer.

I am through with the interruptions, [you] change the subject because I made you uncomfortable.
Telling you about appointments just to hear you repeat the damn question.

I am done wanting and caring, feeling and believing.
It’s too late for you to show an interest in my life – for my interest in living is now gone.