Fighting Through Flares

I Do Not Look Sick

I do not look sick.  It is a blessing and a curse.

Every day is a battle against my body but I look good doing it.

This invisible illness, that my friends cannot name or understand, is slowly killing me.

Being sick is bad but being invisible while you die is worse.

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Just like cancer, it eats slowly away at me.

It grows worse and more complicated until I physically can no longer take it.

Like cancer, the outlook is terrifying and there is no cure.

But unlike cancer, no one posting their support on facebook for me to see.

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I don’t have people telling me that I’m brave for fighting, their support unequivocal.

I don’t have an army of ribbon wearers aware of my disease.

I don’t have the sympathy and offers of help from the belief that I’m legitimately ill.

I have an invisible illness that makes me feel invisible.

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Things are bad but always looming in my mind is that they can get worse.

My prognosis upon diagnosis is a lifespan painfully degraded and reduced.

Forget that there might be complications and variations that shorten it even more.

I do not look sick.  It is a blessing and a curse.

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