DAWG. *pulls out funny, green cigarette*
Let’s be real. Like REALLY real. *lights it up*
I’m Primary Progressive Multiple Sclerosis. I can’t walk. I struggle getting to the bathroom. I have at least THREE aunts that have passed from complications relating to Multiple Sclerosis. I am well aware that as much I’m doing, my illness is progressing. Mentally, spiritually, emotionally, I’m stronger. I’m better with criticism, constructive or just hatred. Queen, 🤜🏾🤛🏾🖤, I promise I GROW with my illness.
Which is why, HOW I feel comfortable saying I’m comfortable AS FUCK with a SHORTER life span. I’m grateful. I STARE at why I’m grateful, harness the WHY, pen the MF to my Gratitude Journal and repeat. The whole process, thought, write, everything. Its how I keep my sanity when bullshit and drama pull up to my front door. I’m occupied, busy AF thinking of Gratitudes so I’m insulated with positive energy.
I still do NOT want an extended existence depending on others, feeding me, changing me, cleaning me, chained to a bed, HOPING somebody treat me a certain way… 👎🏾👎🏾👎🏾 Noooope. THAT is the exact scenario that folks fear. Being something close to vegetable. I do NOT want that. Not a dependent to THAT level. Give me fun, excitement and a QUALITY lifestyle over a long stay under someone’s care.
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