Finding Yourself Again

I often try to remember a day, an hour, or even a minute of when I was well. When my life was normal. When I could just throw my shoes on, run outside and just do whatever fancies me. To walk among the trees, to feel the wind as it flows past me. To smell the fragrances of the flowers that bloom alongside of me.

A day where the sun would always shine, the birds would always sing. A day like no other, because that day I was well, that day I was myself.

The disease covers up the person inside

It’s easy to forget, and it’s harder to remember. That person that is inside of you. The disease has a habit of covering that up, like a blanket on a cold winters night.

It’s hard to remember that hope still exists, even harder to remember that life still continues.

But it does, and it always will.

We're in there somewhere

I often sit here and think of the what was, who I was, and where I was heading. Those thoughts, dreams, and aspirations get lost, they collect dust and soon are forgotten.

It is up to us to find those feelings again. To dig up that box, to dust it off, and find the key to open it up. We’re in there somewhere, this disease can’t cover it up completely.

I always tell people to keep smiling. It’s so crucial. Keep that love in your heart, that bounce in your step. For we still exist.

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