Today is the with anniversary of the illness that ended my normal life. It was eight years ago to the day that my left leg swelled up so dramatically that I thought my foot would tear my shoe open.
A friend, today, coincidentally, posted that aging is hard, aging while disabled is harder, but both are preferable to the alternative.
Except no they aren’t. I can’t do my job, I can’t participate in my hobbies, and I can’t go see my boyfriend, who says he loves me, but not enough to actually come see me.
So yes. I cannot change many facts about myself, and I hate them so much that I would prefer to not be here. These feelings have come back around, and I don’t want them. I want to know how to make them go away and feel some sort of accomplishment, or real joy. Even the good stuff is floating on a much deeper sea of sadness.
Make it all stop hurting so much. Physically and emotionally. Make something better than this.
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