"I heard you were brain dead?" she says over the phone. This is a question I've been fielding for the past two weeks since my bicycle accident. "Aren't you handicap," texted an old friend a few days ago. "Who told you that?" I retort. She says a friend named Michelle, someone I don't even know.
The sad thing is that those I call friends have been disseminating rumours, which brings sadness to my heart. Why these people are expending energy to discredit me I don't know but I try to maintain calm even as strangers/ex-friends continue with the barrage of odd statements.
Despite the scar over my right eye from the 20+ stitches, I am well. To those of you spreading half-truths about my mental and physical well being, piss off; your words say less about me then they do about you but I have no hatred in my heart.
Despite my impaired condition, this struggle will only make me stronger.
The sad thing is that those I call friends have been disseminating rumours, which brings sadness to my heart. Why these people are expending energy to discredit me I don't know but I try to maintain calm even as strangers/ex-friends continue with the barrage of odd statements.
Despite the scar over my right eye from the 20+ stitches, I am well. To those of you spreading half-truths about my mental and physical well being, piss off; your words say less about me then they do about you but I have no hatred in my heart.
Despite my impaired condition, this struggle will only make me stronger.
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