I have this feeling deep within me, it pulls at me, it is a part of me. Something like fight or flight, but between myself and my own body. The feeling is that of grasping for control of chaos. My own body, something I feel I should have agency over, is divorced from my influence. Being placed in the role of a powerless bystander as my body does what it pleases, while also searching desperately for a way to manage it. I have the desire to give myself power in a situation where I question the possibility. Pursuing a manipulation that is only external, that was never really “control” at all, but merely the guise of it. This realization of powerlessness makes me feel disposable, and makes me question the worthiness of the investment. I hate this feeling. It makes me question what it means to mend, and how many times a body can be mended before it’s too far gone. I have also come to love this feeling, because it means that I am still here. That I have not been disposed of yet.