Oh I don't know how I'll be today, every option's looking grey. Won't somebody throw me away?

On my bad days, when I am walking somewhere, I wonder what people think they see in my expression. Anger? Determination? Sadness? Do people even notice at all? If they notice, do they care enough to try and figure it out?

Some days are easy, because some days I am 'normal', and for whatever reason, my symptoms leave me alone. Some days are difficult. These are the days that even the simplist thing is a struggle.

Walking. This is one of the hardest things because I feel so weak. On my way to college, I am constantly speaking to myself inside my head, telling myself comforting and encouraging thoughts, telling myself how well I am doing and how close I am. Dismissing negative thoughts and replacing them with empowering ones. I have to do this because if I don't, I would just collapse right there on the ground, in the rain, or snow, or sun, waiting for someone to pick me back up.

Thinking. You know that feeling you get on a train when you stare out the window for a long time? I get that feeling on my bad days. Like the world is moving so fast and there's nothing you can do to stop it. The symptoms I get make it difficult to concentrate and I get tired much more easily. It's like I am over-stimulated; there is so much information going into my head as it is spinning, and it's just too much. I think the reason I feel sick is because of being over-stimulated, rather than the dizziness itself.

Being. On my bad days, I have to be kind to myself. I have to do a lot of encouraging. I know that I can't just give up every time I feel bad, I can't just go back to sleep and wait until I feel better. I can't sit at home watching films, fulfilling the 'sick role' they drilled into us in sociology. I need normality, I need to carry on. But the only way I can do this is by being gentle with myself, setting myself little goals and making promises and compromises with myself, telling myself that If I get through this lesson, If I finish writing this paragraph, If I walk just a few more steps, I can reward myself with something later. Then I sit down and listen to a song that makes me smile, reminds me of a time I felt free, or makes me remember that maybe I'm not so alone here, and it gives me the strength I need to carry on for just a little bit longer, until I can sink into sleep, to a place where I do not feel anything for a while. Then I wake up, to walk and think and be all over again, to stumble on these shadowfeet through a lonely, beautiful world where, despite all the struggles that I face, I am quite content a lot of the time.

So this is what my life is like on my bad days. I'm not complaining, I'm not asking for sympathy or pity. I'm just trying to make people understand a bit more, to see things from the point of view of someone with a vestibular disorder/MAV/chronic dizziness. I just want people to appreciate that they are lucky.

Mirror mirror, won't you kiss my cheeks and tell me i'll be okay. Warm my spirits with my sugar lips, and help me wait for another day.