By Megan Klenke in The Mighty.
I’ve been struggling with writing a lot lately. Who am I kidding, I’ve been struggling with everything lately. I feel this need when I write and a lot of the time in person (basically anytime I’m talking to anyone outside of my family, my boyfriend and my best friend who is also chronically ill) to spin everything in a positive light. And I just haven’t been able to do that lately. Positivity is not something I feel. Things aren’t always “lookin’ up.” People need to realize that, and realize I’m not a bad person because I’m not always smiling as I take the next punch life has thrown at me.
Being chronically ill is like being in hell – a hell perfectly tailored to you, the most personalized hell you can imagine. You are literally trapped inside something spending the majority of its energy trying to destroy you, and that something is your own body. You have become your own worst enemy. And no one can see the pain inflicted; no one can hear you crying out for help. And because they don’t see, they don’t believe.
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