I wrote this years ago, drained and lost in my own body, so tired of being who I am. Sometimes I wish I could live in someone else's body--one without networks of knots that I have to use all my energy to untie just to feel like getting out of bed, just to feel like I'm a human worthy of anything at all. One where I don't feel betrayed by my own existence. One that allows me to live free from the constraints of the trauma it has withstood. I often wish I was different; I wish
