Life as I know it tonight.

It's a Friday night. I'm at home. Some days I feel so strong. Some days I feel like I can handle everything myself, I can handle whatever comes my way. Other days, my weakness gets the best of me. Though it may not even be weakness, it may just be that I'm human. This entire week I've been feeling horrible about the fact that I've spent the last four years of my life waking up to pain, getting to know pain more and more throughout the day, and going to bed in pain. I've asked myself why this week is any different than any other week of my life in pain. And it's probably the fact that I should be excited about my twenty-first birthday while everyone else is, I can't help but think I've spent so many birthdays in pain. Wishing I could get the past couple years of my life back as a normal sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, and twenty year old. Though normal is non-existent. I think if I weren't dealing with this, I would be feeling something other than what I am about turning twenty one. I'm trying to be excited about it but I'm just realizing now how much I've gone through. And I think it's time I give myself some credit for what I've had to deal with, what I've had to feel, and how much I've accomplished with pain as my shadow. There have been many times where I truly don't care about other people's self-destruction, or their self pity. And though I should give them respect for their troubles, I probably don't. The way I see it, there are so many people in this world who are suffering. Not by choice. And I'm surrounded by those who are self destructing, inconsiderate, and selfish. Trying to get through this on a daily basis without shoving pills down my throat or drinking to the bottom of a bottle, is a battle in itself without the mental and emotional aspect of feeling hell every minute of every day. Today I am weak. Yesterday, I was weak. My mind is restless and my body aches. My heart suffers the tragedy of feeling pain. My tolerance is so high, so why does it kill me little by little? My nerves are in a constant battle with my brain and I'm stuck in the middle with nowhere to turn. The invisible needles and knives I feel, have become part of my daily routine. And knowing the fact that I have to live through this, kills my strength. Maybe I'm one of those I speak about, the ones who pity themselves. But I know I'm a good person. I know I give my all to everyone I love. I'm strong for others when secretly I'm weaker than them. I hold it in and don't complain. Complaining is inadmissible in this kind of situation. Chronic pain has no room to stretch like that of another illness. Everyone knows what you're dealing with. Because there are a million other people who are feeling what you feel. And though the pain of that illness may be miserable, there's a small comfort in knowing someone else is dealing with what you are. I have yet to find someone twenty years old going through this and in a way, it makes it that much more lonely. Not that I would ever want someone to feel this. In July, I went to a pain conference that was solely about what I'm dealing with. I sat there and listened to these so called "professionals". I don't want to hear your medical terms, I know all of them. I want to hear the truth. Not your hope that there will be a cure or a way to help. Because there isn't. And your future cure will not help me now. While the seniors and senior sponsoring companies discussed healthcare and social security, I sat and talked to a woman in her twenties who worked for these non-profit companies. I explained to her what my life is like, and informed her that it doesn't just happen to these strong seniors sitting next to me. Everything in my life is so amazing, but suffering is not part of it. The only thing I know is that I'm still here and I'm not dealing with a fatal illness. And for that I have to be thankful. I'm just dealing with agonizing pain, suffering, and finding my way with chronic pain. How I wish my body would let me live.