Grieving
I donât do a lot of grieving generally about my condition. I just get by, try to live my life one day at a time, do the best that I can.Â
But tonight. Tonight I am grieving. Cause the life that was rightfully mine when I was born, was ripped out of my hands at age 8. My body wonât do as I ask it to anymore, and I get to take the consequences of that (hence the living one day at a time).Â
Tonight I am grieving, because my broken body wouldnât let my second child live, and now I have to grieve for a whole other reason than just my own body being broken. My heart has been taken down too.Â
Tonight Iâm grieving cause my body has to fight another, mind you harmless, cold. A little viral infection no one would think twice about. But my body has to spend all itâs effort dealing with the intruders, so my already existing brokenness is left to fend for itself.Â
And itâs hard. Itâs shit hard. When your body is dragging you down, and you just donât know who you are anymore. Youâve travelled so far outside of yourself that you are completely lost. When those you love more than life itself tell you to get your attitude in check and stop being such a bitch. When your brokenness is pushed away and forgotten about. Thatâs when I grieve for my life that still is rightfully mine.



















