I vivably remeber being sat on my friends bed as she and another friend, discuss there family history of ailments.
They were discussing how their family meneber died of ms or died of cancer or ended up bed bound.
They discussed it, as if this was such a fair a life relaity, but yet we’re scared.
At the time I was jelaous, not in the way you think, I wasn’t jealous they had sick relative. That would be sick of me. I was jealous they could talk about this as a casual conversation, this wasn’t actually happening to them.
I think at the time they didn’t understand how sick I was, to be honest neither did I. I felt it, but I didn’t know how to describe it then, lacked the descriptor words.
But I was scared, I don’t think I wanted to admit it
But I was terrified, of all the possibility’s.
This really shouldn’t be happening to me, my family are “reasonable healthy” I use quotation marks, as there is chronic conditons but not in the way some people have relations with chronic illness. This really shouldn’t actually be happening to me, but ywt ir was.
And I just couldn’t have a casual conversation about it.
The relaity of it hurt, I couldn’t pretend to be okay
I remember later on crying, sobbing myself to sleep
My grief hidden, in quiet
Because that was what it was I just didn’t know grief.
People generally think of grief, as something that happpes when u loose someone.
But what happens when you loose yourself, lose your body, your healthy body
You grieve it, you are angry, you are stuck in despair, you are in disblief. Denial
And that stage I was in denial
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