I am not Beyonce.

February 23, 2016

There are different stages to acceptance of being chronically ill.   The hardest part for me to accept is that I am completely dependent on others for my care.  I got in the voice dr this morning last minute.  Thankfully, my mom is off of work today so she can bring me. Problem is, it’s snowing and I live now opposite side of the world from my parents.  She will drive here, pick me up, drive to dr, bring me back and drive home.  Probably all about 100 miles or more.  Insane right? I feel horrible about it.  BUT I have no choice; I can’t talk nor breathe well so I am stuck. I feel so horrible that this is the way my mom has to spend her off day.  I have guilt that people have to always stop what they are doing to care for me…but then I think to myself, I had to stop my complete life when I got sick and haven’t gotten to go back…everyone who is effected by my illness gets to go back to their lives…I am an inconvenience to them but they get to move on, I am stuck. I strongly believe that there are stages to the acceptance of being ill. I am working daily to understand that I must rely on others to survive…its just hard.  MY dad instilled into me fiercely that I needed to be an independent woman and be able to do everything for myself…think white Beyoncé, that’s what he wanted.  That’s what he got.  Only problem?  I am disabled so while in my brain I am a white FLAWLESS queen Bey, in reality I am a hot mess express. 

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