Keeping up Appearances

What I’d give to break up with my illnesses.

Some days I debate my decision to wait until I get a little healthier before seeking a relationship. The sicker I become, the more I think it be nice to not to go this journey alone. It also prompts the panic attack-inducing question of what happens if I never get better? Or, the crippling, all too possible reality that my health will continue to spiral out of control. To feel like a burden or not feel like a burden to those closest to me, that is the question.

Sick girl style goal inspo right now. Oversized sunnies to hide my sleep-deprived, tear-ridden eyes- check Fuzzy jacket to roam the ever-frozen hospital hallways- check Gold necklace to remind me of my self worth (hell ya, I’m more than just an ill patient, I’m freaking fabulous) - double check Resting bitch face pout that says I’m sick of being sick- yes, yes, yes

Doctors ask (or at least silently wonder) the same thing after I tell them I have Chronic Intestinal Pseudo Obstruction disorder. My short answer: it’s an illness you should be thanking your lucky stars you don’t have, foolz.

I mean, I would hate it if my parents forgot to take me with them to all the extended family holiday celebrations this year. The last thing anyone wants to do when they’re feeling their worst is put on a happy face while being drilled about how you’re doing and if you finally are bringing a boy around this year. No, I’m not feeling any better. Actually, this is the worst I’ve ever felt. Eating bark won't cure me. And no, I don’t have a boyfriend unless you count my illness as one, because that’s all I have time for. My disease and I are taking our unhealthy relationship to the next level and we will each be putting on an eternal band to flaunt our commitment- for better or for worse- emphasis on the worst. We’re less than thrilled envisioning a lifetime consumed by each other. Being chronically sick was the worst decision of my life that I had no say in.