Not residing anywhere else but here, inside me. Nine years and counting. Probably a lot longer if you really want to play dirty.
Why did you choose me when there were so many other people you could have picked? You were probably out for vengeance for working too hard and resting too little. You probably thought it would be fun seeing me cry at the bottom of the staircase when I was too tired to go upstairs. Did you now, did you truly believe it was slapstick-funny?
Have I not been living with enough illnesses already that you had to add yourself to my central nervous system like a piece of superglue or Velcro? I had my second abdominal surgery a mere three months before you crashed into me. You took over my eyes and created new levels of pain in my body, feelings I never thought I would have.
My old GP thought I had severe ear infections for five months, but I knew that was the wrong answer. I saw specialist doctors who said my ears were just fine when your trigeminal neuralgia took hold of the left side of my face. I went to dentists, ENT doctors and other intelligent people who had no idea what eye and facial pain even felt like. I dragged myself into A&E after another bout of antibiotics that didn’t do what they were supposed to.
Five weeks later, you were here.
And for the rest of my life.
How dare you take over my life? How dare you change my relationships, professional life and upset my family and friends? Two of my friends blatantly said they couldn’t handle my illness; one ran off, the other one I let go with a lot of pain in my heart because our friendship was based on a lie.
My family? They’re my rock, my everything. Some also said things that made me tremble inside of hurt, because they don’t know what it feels like to live in my misshapen brain.
The worst thing of all was having to retire at the age of 36. I loved my job, I loved working hard, but you took that away from me. It’s no fun having to take anti-narcolepsy tablets like they are candy. Without them, I can’t make it through the day otherwise. Without them, I fall asleep after 2 or 3 hours. I am now taking a total of 29 pills and 1 injection every day. You, you ignorant, selfish, disturbing illness did all that to me. But I’ve already shown that I won’t let you win. No way. You try, but I won one battle already. You keep trying though…
Where was the manual that showed me how to adapt, accept and live? There were none, was there? MS just hits you like a ton of bricks, and the rest you have to figure out yourself. No two people are alike with MS, so you really outdid yourself!
You made each of us different. MS has 50+ different symptoms, and multiple sclerosis just wants you to go through it alone. I never asked for you, I never wanted you, so I sure as hell want you gone. For good.
I figured you out though.
I got you… yet I won.
I won fantastic new friends and a totally new philosophy on life.
I won love where I thought there was none.
In need, you truly learn who your real friends are. I found trust in those that stuck around.
You don’t own me MS, you don’t get praise for having me. No matter how bad you treat me in the future, I will own you instead.
You’re you and I’m me. One thing I will never lose is the knowledge that I conquered you. Perhaps not physically, but mentally I am stronger than you.
You’re here to stay, but I won.
I won yesterday.
I win today.
And I will win tomorrow also.
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