Ticking... Of my life clock

Everyday I can hear the ticking of that clock in my head tic tic ticking away. It gets louder with each relapse. The ticking becomes like a pulse rate. I can feel it.
On my good days it slows down. On my not so fabulous days it feels like a thunderstorm in my head. Pounding away at my very existence. Often I catch myself playing the demented little game with myself on how much longer do I have to be me?
That game always makes me sad.
What started as a whisper, has turned into a screaming demon that threatens my very existence on a daily basis.
My feet are not mine anymore. If they do belong to me, I haven't felt them in almost a year. I am walking, like a cowboy... Not a pretty sexy walk for a forty year old woman. Alas, I am still walking without the assistance of a cane for now.
Pain! I am incessantly in pain. Either, ocular neuritis or spasticity pain is always with me. Neurontin... I can eat those like tic tacs.
My latest and greatest... I have been melting. That's where I spontaneously fall down and nap.
That's super fun.
I really hate this clock. I hate this disease. I hate that I'm not me.

I just want to be me.