A Sour Taste 

It’s hard looking back sometimes. You know?
It hurts to remind myself that my body is crippled once again from a sickness I have already over come, a sickness I have already been healed from. I promised myself, once I got better, after putting my health first, and having to leave school that I would never be in this position again. I promised myself that I would never push my body so hard again that it felt as if it had to break. Yet it seems some lessons you have to learn more then once; because here I am in a different room yet I am still confined to it, in a different bed yet I am still glued to it, and in a different time of life yet I am faced with the same choice.

Health, or education? When… 


It was the middle of semester when I become sick again. It’s my second last semester. I started uni early after leaving school and completing other study’s. I’ve worked hard to get where I am, and knowing that I am, or was enroute to graduate six months before other people who had graduated from my year,was my “stick it to the system” you know? For not believing I was sick the first time around, for making me feel alienated, exiled, most of all, for making me feel stupid. I can’t blame the school system entirely, how can you deal with something you don’t know of?

Other then, of course believing that the sick girl who can’t get out of bed, can’t always think; due to the lack of blood going to her brain because her body is failing on her.

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Yet, a lesson I’ve had to learn recently, is that you can’t fuel your passion based on someone else’s opinion. As relieving as it would be to still graduate six months early, the school system isn’t going to notice, or quite frankly care, it’s not like they helped me get here.

A lesson I’ve had to learn, quite loudly and without hesitation is that slow, and steady really does win the race.


So here I am, three years later, with the same decision and the same sickness, unwilling to give up, or give in. I’ve had to come to terms with a lot of things recently, but I’ve realized that at the end of my life, it won’t matter if I graduated in June, or November, as long as I took care of my self, and lived life the best way I could. Taking one step at a time, and loving myself, and everyone around me.

To be quite honest with you, I have no clue what is going to happen next.

But I know this;

I am not the illness the rattles inside my body, and I will love myself despite how many times I have to learn the same lesson.

Until next time,

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K x 

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