Are you okay?

Are you okay? How are you getting on? Bearing up, are we?


I hate those sorts of questions. Really, really hate them. What I want to do is turn around and say 'No, no, I'm not bloody okay!' I'm sick of the pain, sick of worrying, sick of other people worrying for me, sick of being tired, sick of missing out on things, sick of not being able to look after myself, and most of all, I'm sick of being such a cynical bitch. Of letting it all get to me when I know I should be fighting against it. Of having such a defeatist attitude sometimes. 


I'm sick of it ruling my life, making my choices for me, stopping me from doing the things in life I most want to do. I'm sick of not feeling sexy, feeling too nauseous from all the medication, too tired from doing nothing. 


I'm sick of it messing with my emotions, sending my hormones crazy, bearing down on my relationship.


I'm so angry. With the people who mis-diagnosed me. With the people who judge me because they can't see my pain. With the guys that I slept with who didn't care or recognise that I shouldn't be in that much pain. With the world for not knowing more about it, for being more preoccupied with stupid cosmetic things rather than finding a cure. With stupid people who try and sympathise when they have no idea what it's like.


I'm sick of being angry, being cynical and letting it define me. But I'll tell you, most of all, I'm sick of being sick.