Have you ever woken up to a new day and really wondered what it held? Not a passing thought, but a real reckoning with the next few hours. When you live with a chronic illness, each morning feels like stepping into a story that hasn’t been written yet. Some days, I feel on top of…
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When Memories Become Ghosts of the Past
Some days, memory ambushes me without warning. I will be standing in the kitchen, reaching for a cup, and something, a slant of morning light, the smell of salt air drifting in from the coast, pulls me back. Not gently. Memory rarely works gently. It grabs you by the collar and drags you to another…
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When Memories Become Ghosts of the Past
Some days, memory ambushes me without warning. I will be standing in the kitchen, reaching for a cup, and something, a slant of morning light, the smell of salt air drifting in from the coast, pulls me back. Not gently. Memory rarely works gently. It grabs you by the collar and drags you to another…
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The Country Called Normal
Do something difficult. Close your eyes and go back to before. Not last week. Not last year. Before that. Go back to when you woke up in the morning and didn’t think about your inventory. When your body carried you through the day, without complaint, and you never thanked it. You went through your life…
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The In-Between Days
Dave, Some days announce themselves as battles. Others slip into your life with just enough symptom to remind you that your disease is always working, but not enough to knock you down. For lack of a better term, I call those ordinary days. Ordinary is probably a strange word for them. Compared with what has…
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