Hello,
My name is Elizabeth, and I’m scared. I’m embarrassed, confused, and discouraged. September 26, 2013, I was diagnosed with Relapsing Remitting Multiple Sclerosis. The road to diagnosis was long and tiresome. Good news though, I’m not pregnant! Please forgive me; cheap jokes and self-deprecating humor seem to be my go-to defense. I kept telling my sisters, “They’ve got me on the roids and it’s not a tumor! I’m the Governator!!!” Even now I don’t know how to approach this seriously…
I’m not even 25. My birthday is a couple of weeks away. My little sisters don’t like to talk about it, and my parents just keeping saying, “I wish it were me.” This does not sit well at all. Burden. That’s all I feel like, a burden. Ryan, my boyfriend of 9 years has been so wonderful, which makes me feel even worse; like I’m drowning him with MY problems. This is why I’m here, to find people to talk to.
I know that things can always be worse and I’m very lucky in many ways, but it’s getting harder and harder to remember. This isn’t just wreaking havoc on my body, but every aspect of what I deem good in my life. Melodramatic, yes, but I’m shamefully admitting… I’m no superman.
*And yes, I am a fan of Scrubs. I named my cat JD, and honestly my fictional doctors are more a comfort than the few I’ve met. Which doctors you may ask, or better yet doctor who?
Thank you & happy holiday.
My name is Elizabeth, and I’m scared. I’m embarrassed, confused, and discouraged. September 26, 2013, I was diagnosed with Relapsing Remitting Multiple Sclerosis. The road to diagnosis was long and tiresome. Good news though, I’m not pregnant! Please forgive me; cheap jokes and self-deprecating humor seem to be my go-to defense. I kept telling my sisters, “They’ve got me on the roids and it’s not a tumor! I’m the Governator!!!” Even now I don’t know how to approach this seriously…
I’m not even 25. My birthday is a couple of weeks away. My little sisters don’t like to talk about it, and my parents just keeping saying, “I wish it were me.” This does not sit well at all. Burden. That’s all I feel like, a burden. Ryan, my boyfriend of 9 years has been so wonderful, which makes me feel even worse; like I’m drowning him with MY problems. This is why I’m here, to find people to talk to.
I know that things can always be worse and I’m very lucky in many ways, but it’s getting harder and harder to remember. This isn’t just wreaking havoc on my body, but every aspect of what I deem good in my life. Melodramatic, yes, but I’m shamefully admitting… I’m no superman.
*And yes, I am a fan of Scrubs. I named my cat JD, and honestly my fictional doctors are more a comfort than the few I’ve met. Which doctors you may ask, or better yet doctor who?
Thank you & happy holiday.
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