Dear Cystic Fibrosis,

I hate you today.

I have on and off my whole life.

But today you have made me angry and sad.
 You have made me question my ability to live my life and filled me with so much doubt. The worry and discouragement I feel is overwhelming. 

My chest is so tight, I am suffocating. I just want to effortlessly take a deep breath.

Instead, I imagine a person with big muscles and your biceps, are ridiculous, your squeezing me so tightly that whilst it may be intended to be like a cuddle, it’s not, you’re not letting go and I am suffocating.
I can’t breathe. I want to scream and break free. 

As my tears fall from my eyes, I try so hard not to let out a cry, but I am just so sad.

Sad that for the first time in years I have seen people close to me frightened of you.
 Frightened of what you are doing to me and it can’t be stopped.

So, to protect themselves, they have chosen to be distant. To slowly separate themselves from me as they are afraid of what could become. 

I am so frustrated that my long list of to-dos is looking like impossible which infuriates me.
 Do you not realize how big my list is? I am always adding to it and you are finding ways to make this seem unrealistic.

I close my eyes and can see a stop sign.
My vision is blurry, and I can’t quite make it out, but I can see the red and I am afraid that I am going to come to this stop sign and that is it. The End.

Is it a stop sign that I am coming to an end of the suffocation for good?  

Or is it a stop to this rollercoaster of hell? Which once I reach the Stop, I will be able to breathe again. Take control. Stop and reset my goals my pathway.

You make me doubt my all...the life I have and the life I have worked so hard in creating because I am learning that when you want to knock me down. 

And when you want to know me down, you do it well. I lose all control.
I am nothing but helpless. I feel like I'm kicked to the ground, repeatedly being kicked with a steel cap I am left weak were I'm unable to get up.

I feel like I'm drowning in puddles that are filled by the rain that is pouring as I lay down, coughing and struggling to breathe.

Yet life is going on around me and no one seems to stop to help me or be able to pick me up.

How is it that YOU CYSTIC FIBROSIS can get the better of me and make me feel so inadequate?

It doesn’t take long before that small positive part of me begins to resurface.
I am a fighter after all.

This small positive piece is all I needed to help me realize the battle is between you and I.

I have a decision to let you defeat me, but I am very quick to be reminded that this life, my life, has a long way to go yet. 

So, whilst you mind find ways to test me and brig me down. I will get up again, I will come back stronger, I will continue to fight. You are not who I am, you are a part of me. 

You may have won this round...but your about to be put back in your place.

As I slowly start to stand up and take that deep breathe in, I find I am standing on my two feet again.

Ready to take on the world.

Until we meet again



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