Dear Rheumatoid Arthritis,
We've been officially seeing each other for eight years now, and I feel as though our relationship is on the rocks. We've had some alright times in there (I'm not ashamed to admit they were the times you gave me space and let me do my own thing), but lately you're suffocating me, the way you are around all the time. I think it's time you and I had a little chat.
You need to let up, just for a while, because I can't take much more of your neediness. You're confining me to my bed (mean), requiring I take a lot of meds (mean) that make me grumpy (mean) and fat (there are no words for how mean that part is), and keeping me from work so I am not earning any money (mean, nasty and quite unsustainable). Just quietly, I've been supporting you for as long as I've known you, propping up your doctor's bills, medications, physio, massage, chiropractor, pathology bills, MRIs, X-rays, health insurance, the whole lot - and now that I'm not earning money your expenses aren't going away. I don't see you contributing to the household in many ways, other than making me feel bad, and it's starting to wear a little thin.
I really need to get my life back ASAP because I have things to do. I have a seminar coming up that I've been waiting to go to for two years, and I need to be able to sit in the one spot for 10 hours a day without popping so many pills I don't absorb any information. I have weddings to go to - and if it's not bad enough that I'm the token single girl at these things, I'd prefer not to be the token sober-but-narcotised single girl as well. I have to be better so I can put my paws up at Lady Gaga's Born This Way Ball, because let's face it - we fabulous ladies with autoimmune diseases have to stick together. Last but by no means least, I'd also really love for my body to feel like taking a walk every now and again, so I don't greet my thirtieth birthday swollen, fat, grumpy and with a rubbish attitude to life - oh, and I'd like to be able to dance to a couple of songs that night, too.
We've been officially seeing each other for eight years now, and I feel as though our relationship is on the rocks. We've had some alright times in there (I'm not ashamed to admit they were the times you gave me space and let me do my own thing), but lately you're suffocating me, the way you are around all the time. I think it's time you and I had a little chat.
You need to let up, just for a while, because I can't take much more of your neediness. You're confining me to my bed (mean), requiring I take a lot of meds (mean) that make me grumpy (mean) and fat (there are no words for how mean that part is), and keeping me from work so I am not earning any money (mean, nasty and quite unsustainable). Just quietly, I've been supporting you for as long as I've known you, propping up your doctor's bills, medications, physio, massage, chiropractor, pathology bills, MRIs, X-rays, health insurance, the whole lot - and now that I'm not earning money your expenses aren't going away. I don't see you contributing to the household in many ways, other than making me feel bad, and it's starting to wear a little thin.
I really need to get my life back ASAP because I have things to do. I have a seminar coming up that I've been waiting to go to for two years, and I need to be able to sit in the one spot for 10 hours a day without popping so many pills I don't absorb any information. I have weddings to go to - and if it's not bad enough that I'm the token single girl at these things, I'd prefer not to be the token sober-but-narcotised single girl as well. I have to be better so I can put my paws up at Lady Gaga's Born This Way Ball, because let's face it - we fabulous ladies with autoimmune diseases have to stick together. Last but by no means least, I'd also really love for my body to feel like taking a walk every now and again, so I don't greet my thirtieth birthday swollen, fat, grumpy and with a rubbish attitude to life - oh, and I'd like to be able to dance to a couple of songs that night, too.
I know my requests are entirely selfish, but I feel as though you're being a little selfish in requiring me to ask. I'm not looking for an easy out - I know we're together for the long haul, it's been nothing but a committed relationship so far - but I'd really appreciate you giving me some time to myself, some breathing space, so I can get my head and body back in the game to deal with whatever life throws my way next.
Sincerely,
Me.
Sincerely,
Me.
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