The Other Body

The Other Body
Dorcas Annette Walker

I wake up and turn to jump out of bed like usual, but my body refuses to move. I have to concentrate to move my arm and finally painfully slowly roll over. It takes me a couple of tries until I can sit up. The effort leaves me trembling. What has happened to me? This isn’t my body. I feel like I weight 400 pounds instead of my usual 135. Whose body did I wake up in?

When I finally drag myself to the bathroom I see a stranger in the mirror; someone haggard with dark circles under their eyes and hair that has been neglected. Surely it can’t be me! I search for some sign of recognition of myself, but I seem to have disappeared. My shoulder’s slump in despair and I stagger back to bed. I painfully crawl back under the covers. All I want to do is disappear in sleep, blot out this life, and someway find myself again.

I hate this person who is clumsy, drops stuff, and stumbles around having to hold onto the walls for balance. I find it hard to complete simple tasks like getting dressed or brushing my teeth; stuff that I used to do automatically. Now it drains what little energy I have.

I can’t focus enough to talk in complete sentences. I have to concentrate not to mumble or slur my words. My husband teases me that I sound like I am drunk. I start to ask a question and then forget what I was asking. It is like the computer screen of my mind keeps going blank and I have to scroll up and down my memory searching for the right word. It feels like my brain has crashed on me. I try not to panic. What if I my brain suddenly decides to shut down completely? This thought lurking at the back of my mind haunts me.