When you look right through me

What evil disease is this, that would

steal the recognition of a loving daughter from her darling mother’s mind?

With love so strong and infinite, how could

a devoted mother suddenly go so far beyond, leaving a part of her heart behind?

 

So often you look right through me

as though I’m not here.

And as I wonder when you will again see me,

I become paralyzed with fear.

 

Each time you look right through me,

a jagged knife plunges into my already shattered heart

because although we’re together, we

couldn’t be further apart.

 

Although you look right through me

not knowing who I am, I will never forget you

or all that you have done for me.

And I will do everything I can to help you.

 

Whenever you look right through me,

please know that right here I plan to remain.

Forever by your side I promise I will be,

trying desperately to reunite us once again.

 

But the truth is – every time you look right through me,

another huge part of me dies.

Forever lost in eternity.

Unseen, like my unheard cries.

 

© Chrystal Gomes   2012

 

More from Chrystal Gomes

TVO Interviews Chrystal Gomes

Uploaded on May 16, 2008

TVO’s Person 2 Person Interview, Paula Todd with Stand-Up Comedienne Chrystal Gomes about living with Multiple Sclerosis.

Check out Chrystal’s web site at www.chrystalgomes.com

 

More from Chrystal Gomes

A New Chapter

No spoken promises now. No

written guarantees

that what once was, will again be so…

and I get down on my knees.

 

I cling to my memories of yesterday,

dreading the day when uncertain tomorrow comes.

As always, weariness has a say…

and I fall asleep to the sound of fading drums.

 

I dream such hearty, rose-coloured happiness

that in reality is so hard to feel…

for in this world rules weepy sadness,

diagnosed truth, that makes fear so real.

 

Fate has no conscience, and it always gets its way.

But when I shut my eyes,

I see only what I want to see. In the grey

abyss between life and death, my spirit lies…

 

in waiting. A new chapter

of a carefully woven destiny

gently unfolds in silken scenes filled with laughter…

and my soul rejoices, a wronged prisoner finally set free.

 

By Chrystal Gomes

 

More from Chrystal Gomes

Finding an MS Voice for Patient Centred Education

By Chrystal Gomes

As an introverted and painfully shy person until my late 20’s – I often couldn’t find my voice. I spent my late teens and 20’s working, traveling and speaking just a little more often, while still unsure of serious future goals. At the age of 28, I finally realized I wanted to pursue a career in hotel and convention management, and my life was now filled with hope and excitement.

I had completed my first year of the three-year hospitality program, when I suddenly became seriously ill. Following a horrible headache that had me praying for death because nothing would relieve the pain, I developed double vision, my speech became slurred and completely garbled. I lost all hand coordination, and I couldn’t walk without help… to name a few of my many symptoms.

My parents naturally first thought…that I had started drinking. I sought medical help, and was subsequently diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. I shared this news with my parents and…we all started drinking.

I was diagnosed by a specialist who told me I had Multiple Sclerosis, then promptly left my hospital room without another word. This was the first time that the absence of adequate communication left me gutted. [...] continue the story

Health Mentor – Season One – Episode 1 – Zal

By: Zal Press

I came out of the subway into air that was just cool enough to keep me focussed on my thoughts rather than the weather. Throughout the subway ride I was riddled with anxiety about my new Health Mentor group I was about to meet.

This is my second year in the program. As a so-called veteran I knew what to expect, but I felt that this was going to be different. The students were going to be different. And so was I because I also knew that I was going to be writing this blog about the experience and I was feeling some self-generated pressure to produce a kick-ass piece.

Would that prejudice or bias my session? I was worried I might manipulate the session just to satisfy my selfish need for literary recognition. “These students deserve to get the best I have to offer in terms of insights from a chronic illness patient”, I kept telling myself. As I jumped up the stairs at 500 University through the front doors and up the elevator to meet the group, I focused on being authentic, real and honest and pledged that my literary ambitions wouldn’t get in the way.

The minute I [...] continue the story

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