Dear Fibromyalgia,
I’d like to talk doogree with you.
Doogree- straightforwardly, with no beating around the bush
I am no longer naïve enough to believe that despite your presence I can make my life the way I’d like it to be. I am old enough now to realize that I can never make peace with you. I will never be my truest self until I am rid of you.
Did you hear that? I will not be free until I am free of you.
You are constricting me. You are suffocating me. You are the enemy I fear, the pain I dread, and the negative I cannot escape. You. Suck.
My friends wonder how I do it, how I live with you in my life. I wonder why.
I just want to make sure you are not mistaken on this: we are not friends. It has been years and I tolerate you, but that does not mean I do not hate you with every fiber of my being.
See what I did there?
There is not much more to say.
The next time I write to you, I hope it will be a goodbye.
Ella
Song Quote:
Light up, light up, as if you have a choice. –Run, Snow Patrol
Sick and Sick of It 