I wish you'd hear me

If I say these words, will you listen.
Or will you hear what you expect.
Will my words get lost in a sea of sound?

Does your selective hearing work among ideas too?
As it does the sounds in the world around us?
Do you get to hear what you choose, blocking the rest out?

I wish I could show you. Maybe then you'd understand
The ticking of the clock
The humming of the fan
They jam me up, they block my thoughts, my decisions, my ideas from traveling
Anywhere at all
While you deaden your senses to the world

I wish you'd see. The closing in. Darkness.
Or the narrowing confusion of not knowing what is around.
Not being able to rely on whether something is truly there or not.
Not knowing how far it is.
Or even knowing that there is so much more vision out there than you currently understand.

I wish you'd believe me. The pain. The blankness. The not knowing who or what you are.
The not knowing what will happen this time. Will I be able to see? Speak? Walk?
Always planning. Always ready.
Never being enough.
The struggle of someone who at any moment might Stop.
Their motor cortex having been taken over by the migraine spreading through.

I wish there was a way that would be enough
But more, I wish you'd believe
And that there might be at least one safe place.

I wish, that maybe my senses were listened to
By someone not me

A migraine

My vision blurs and my head spins
every step becomes a mountain
every minute, who knows?

The noises blur,
louder and louder
coming at me from every which way
indistinguishable,
just a cacophony of pain

My tunnel shrinks
False lights blinking and flying
Blurring, shrinking, growing, moving
all of the information, lost in the shuffle

The ground begins to move
and I flip - upside down
So many lies about how I am moving

Walking? Shuffling? How do I balance?
I don't even know where I am.
My arms, my legs,
what are these things?

You've helped, and I've found them.
I can once more move; am no longer trapped
with the fear,
knowing I'm unable to move.

But still, they won't listen.
My fingers won't hold things
the doors, won't open when I push.
The movements hold me in their own new way.

Spinning, blurring, unable to speak
Unable to remember words
Unable to hold onto ideas
Unable to speak those few things I can find

Lost, confused, and trying to find a way
through the maze that keeps building itself.

Every task having more and more steps added,
and the steps in the middle stolen.
Every path having more and more obstacles being put in my way

As the pain, increases.
And the rest does as well.

Until eventually I find that way through, in its own weird way.
Or I don't.

Because what I do
or don't do
is dependent on how my brain works today

Not on your expectations.

My voice not responding

I'm afraid
I sit here, my voice not responding, knowing I'm at work
Knowing that I have the choice
Attempt to continue
Or take care of myself

Yet taking care of myself won't make a difference
I'll still be in pain
There's not even a way to sleep
I have to push on either way

So why not, step up
Pick up a my cane
Push up, hold myself up, wobbling
But stepping
One step
Two step
Step by step, until I make it down the hall

Why not go on to the next class, no matter my pain?
No matter my balance issues
My senses throwing abnormal information
My nausea
And fighting to stay awake
No matter what ever is happening today
Why not?

I'm afraid
As I sit here, my voice not responding
People walking in, trying to speak to me, and me not being able to reply

Staring down at my phone, looking at my app, knowing its usefulness
And knowing here, I'm already disbelieved, looked down on, and supposed to be a "professional adult"

I have my solution
I can go, I can type, I like my app
But, will they respect me if I do?

Will I be treated as a person?
Will my knowledge be ignored?
Will what I've accomplished already be discarded because of my disability?

Is acknowledging who I am
Allowing myself to show
And allowing myself to take care of myself
Professionally safe?

I don't know.

I sit, not replying
Not knowing whether or not to click the saved phrase
Saying to those speaking to me "I have a migraine"

Until eventually I decide to go to class
And there, sit, not speaking
And not saying anything with my phone.

I feel like I did something wrong.

Accommodations

"We can't do anything for you" means "We don't care"
Or "you look normal"
Or "Any effort at all we will say is too much"

How many times have I heard this?
Refusal to help
Ignoring what I need

Invisible.
But that doesn't mean that I don't need my accommodations
It just means they get away with it easier

As once again my path in life changes because of the same refusal
To let someone possibly be capable of doing what they are capable of
I wonder if it is worth asking
Because every time I'm told the same things

"We can't do anything for you"
Whether it is sitting me in a room by myself
Or putting up signs saying not to spray perfumes

Actually doing your jobs is too hard
So instead you make my life harder
Push me away
And make it so that even when I'd help you, I can't

It's not even better for you this way
It's just so much harder for me.