A letter to my disease

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Dear illness,

I never knew that you would come for me. We all know about illness, it is the elephant in the room. Yet somehow, we always assume it will happen to “someone else”. The trouble is, we are all “someone else” to the rest of the world. When I joined the ranks of those forced to shoulder you, I realized I couldn’t depend on this life happening to others.

You came at an unfortunate time. I was at the cusp of life, supposed to be healthy and free. No one who has not tasted this world for themselves imagines that someone who is this young should be sick. You aren’t fair. You aren’t right. But you are what happened.

And my life today is very different than that of my peers- but that’s okay. Because I have learned to savor the moments where I can breathe without pain. To walk when I can, and when I can’t, that’s okay too. You have taught me that sometimes crying is the only way to heal.

You took so much that I would give a lot to get back. You took my love of sports, my ability to eat, some days even my ability to move. You’ve taken so much more. And I hate you for that. But because of this, I am grateful for the little things. In a few years, those are the things I want to remember. How despite you, I found hope, and happiness, and joy. I have learned to find the silver linings, even when it never seemed to stop raining.

You’ve showed me how fast life changes, but you’ve also shown me how to live. That sometimes, you should take the hurt later if it means you get to walk on the beach. That when you are living seconds at a time because of how much it hurts, remember that you will make it out the other side. That live isn’t measured in years, and months, or even days, it’s measured in heartbeats, and kisses, and prayers.

So illness? Thank you. Because of you, I know what it is to be brave.

 

Sincerely,

The girl who’s kicking your ass.

This was also published on The Mighty.

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