That feeling when your tests look amazing after four years, and you actually expect them to scale back your treatment. Then, someone decides to play games and—boom—total shock again. I ended up hospitalized with meningitis and lost my sight for a while (thank God it’s back now). There was nothing worse than lying there feeling completely helpless at twenty years old, having to rely on someone else for everything. Things are okay now; I've still got balance issues, some dizziness, and minor trouble with one eye, but I'm not giving up. It's getting better. 😁
Looking at people my age... I had a tiny window where I got to experience what a "normal" life outside a hospital feels like. I don't know, sometimes I just wake up, open my eyes, and realize I can still see. I get up, and I realize I can walk. The pain becomes secondary. Most people my age are just focused on going out and getting drunk—which, I guess, is pretty standard. Me? I just want to meet someone who actually understands those of us living with chronic illness, someone whose goal is simply to go out and see the world...
I honestly wonder if I'll ever find someone who will respect me, love me, and let me love them—someone we can both lean on when things get rough. Someone to share the highs and the lows with. It feels like nowadays, everything is just about having a good night out, or acting like everything is perfect as long as you're healthy. But the moment you need someone to make you tea, squeeze a lemon, or grab a tissue, people vanish—let alone when things get serious.
For us, every single day is a fight just to conquer the world. I just wish I didn't have to do it alone.
Looking at people my age... I had a tiny window where I got to experience what a "normal" life outside a hospital feels like. I don't know, sometimes I just wake up, open my eyes, and realize I can still see. I get up, and I realize I can walk. The pain becomes secondary. Most people my age are just focused on going out and getting drunk—which, I guess, is pretty standard. Me? I just want to meet someone who actually understands those of us living with chronic illness, someone whose goal is simply to go out and see the world...
I honestly wonder if I'll ever find someone who will respect me, love me, and let me love them—someone we can both lean on when things get rough. Someone to share the highs and the lows with. It feels like nowadays, everything is just about having a good night out, or acting like everything is perfect as long as you're healthy. But the moment you need someone to make you tea, squeeze a lemon, or grab a tissue, people vanish—let alone when things get serious.
For us, every single day is a fight just to conquer the world. I just wish I didn't have to do it alone.