I thought sickness was the big thing the most challenging thing I'd have to deal with. Even though I know it could always be worse I didn't actually believe it would get worse. I really thought that being sick was the hardest challenge I would face, that losing my ability to work and to live like before were the biggest losses to take.
How naive I was. Because well --there is always divorce.
I know the statistics I do, that didn't stop me from believing I was somehow immune. It was NOT a part of my vocabulary, but my vocabulary wasn't the one being used.
my name, my identity, my home, my friends, my security, my health, my progress, my planning, my dreams, my support system, my doctors, and what else goes because you decide to quit?
Why does it feel like I'm bait on a hook and the fishes aren't biting they are just nibbling bit by bit. Here you can have this and this too, oh ok take that as well and please don't forget that little extra bit right there too. oh me? I'm fine, I mean I'm still alive so that's good right?