It's hard not to think about where I'd be if I didn't get sick.

It's hard not to think about where I'd be if I didn't get sick. Would I have continued on the path to career success? Would I have a healthy social life? Would I be in a healthy relationship?

These are all useless questions though. My life is my life. I can't look at someone else's life and wonder why it's not mine. I'm 34. I have chronic pain. I can't do the things I did in the Before Times. That's my life, and no matter how much I wish the pain would completely disappear, it won't. And I have to work with that.

I just want independence. Spare me the distractions. Give me forty acres and a mule. Land to work and die on. Somewhere with no more rugs to pull out from under me.

I don't have time to wait for the sweet by and by.