The seven months since I was diagnosed have past in a blur, but I am stronger. I am better. I fight everyday. I refuse to let anything or anyone put me in a state of agitation and anxiety, yet I find that the biggest predator in this battle between life and death, is just myself.
I hold the keys to my jail. I just can’t figure out how to work them into unlocking the door.
I have a partner, who has been supporting me in my recovery and lately, I have found that he too is suffering from feelings of lowness.
I feel at fault.
The one thing I hate the most, more than whatever is going on in my own head and my own life, is watching others live in pain.
My focus now is on changing this throughout the world, for whom ever will accept the efforts I make.
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