I think I handled this illness pretty well from the beginning. It changed my daily life so dramatically and yet I just accepted it and did my best to alleviate the symptoms. The last few days were the first time that I got genuinely depressed and felt angry about the loss of normal days and the things that I used to take for granted.
I know that it could be worse but it's still so difficult. It seems that nothing is easy anymore and everything is work. I try to put a positive spin on it in front of the rest of the world, but few see the private struggles and how much it has affected me.
I watched my grandmother handle her own chronic illnesses with such grace and dignity. I told her that she was the strongest women that I ever knew. When I feel like I'm going to break under the weight of all this, I just remember her. I feel her watching over me and I know that if she was brave enough to face her struggles than I can be brave enough to face mine too.