Look at me.
You hate me. You are angry with me. You are mad, pissed, and upset with me.
But I am here. I’m with you. Every day. All day. Whether you like it or not.
I’ve been with you for so long. I make sure your body turns against you. Physically debilitates you. Hurts you. Drains you. Brings you down.
Yet you fight. Why do you fight?
Some days, you find the will and determination to send me straight to hell.
You get angry. You refuse to give in. You push and pull, kick and scream.
You put both feet on the floor. You convince yourself that a hot shower will help. You talk to yourself—over and over.
You forge forward.
Motivated. Convinced. And angry.
Yet I stay there, ever present, asking you what you think you will achieve.
What do you plan to do?
How do you plan to do it?
And how well do you think you’ll do?
I say f*ck you. F*ck you in countless ways.
I’m looking at you. And I am stronger. I’m bigger. I’m more than you.
You piss me off. You drain me. Yes, I’m angry.
I’m tired. I want to give in. I want to crawl under the covers, retreat, go to sleep.
But step away. Give me a moment.
Why the hell are you still here?
Go away. I can do this. Stop raining on my parade.
I need an army. A marine corps. A lot of troops.
Or just myself—me, I.
I can do this. And I hate you.
Why is this a battle? Why am I forced to admit defeat? And where can I pull more energy from?
I’m tired. I’m getting old.
I’m tired. I don’t want to fight anymore.
So what do I do?
For any chronic illness sufferers and survivors, this one’s for you.
How do you make it through each day?