Remembering...

Just lately I have started to remember who I am. Remembering that the illness is only a small and insignificant part of me. The rest of me comes from the surface. The real me. The real Wendy who would walk around in a corset because it felt sexy and just that little bit naughty. Or the girl who would just do her own thing because she felt like it or would be able to figure out ANY problem with technology. Even the most awkward ones where you have to hack in to the bare bones of the computer just to get it all working as it should again.

I think as I have made the transition from being in one relationship to another, I have re-discovered this whole part of me that I had long since forgotten about. Things I like. Things the make me thing "That is cool". and those things that really make me passionate. Re-discovering some old anime programmes that I used to watch and still thinking that Kimimaro still looks the dead spit of Sephiroth. This did amuse me however and I did have a good giggle about that. Naruto is becoming weirder, yet so much more facinating and compelling a watch.

I re-discovered corsetry. It makes me feel so feminine when I wear my new corset and with my long raven black hair, it looks stunning. I just need to find the right bottoms and accessories then I have the look down. In September we plan to go to Camden for some clothes shopping so I can find more pretty goth clothes and continue to find my old self and get back to how smart I used to dress. Blazers, trousers and nice tops were the order of the day, rather than baggy and untidy.

So now, for Hope, Alphonse and above all, myself. I am going to keep going. I am going to get stronger and i am going to prove it to myself that I am more than what I became because of my circumstances. I am going to live. For me. For Tom and for the animals I care for. My friends and extended family will help me be what I was always supposed to be instead of a mess or a nervous wreck.

This is my resolve. And with it I refuse to give up and let people push me down or hold me back anymore. I cared so much about what so-called friends had to say about me and proving to them the problems that we all knew were there and were making me so miserable. If they didn't want to listen or believe me, then that is their problem. Just because they don't want to believe it then it doesn't make it not true and I would be foolish to stop using my medicine or walking aids to keep them from slagging me off or criticizing me. If I didn't need them then they would not have given them to me. Or if they thought at any time they were inappropriate they would have taken them back.

We may complain about the NHS, but we know for a fact that they only do what they think is best. Even if at the time, we may not agree with them or what they say, but remember: WHO spent 10 years at medschool? And last time I checked, 10 years at medschool is worth more than 100 years of living with a medical problem, as no 2 sufferers of a problem are EXACTLY the same.

Look at me and Penny. We both have T1BA, but hers and mine behave in different ways and are set off by different triggers. She has allergies and reflux and I don't. My complications come from a low immune system which results in chronic chest infections as an exacerbating factor on top of a few other problems on top of it. Yes we both know a lot about our respective conditions, but none of us profess to be the leading authority on them.  People who think they know everything annoy me and when they get under my skin, it takes a while before I can say "Fuck it", and I am finally at that point. So now I say a huge "Fuck it" to the people who think they're NEVER wrong. To the people who attack without getting the facts straight first. And the people who think they're somehow better than me.

But Thank You to the people who support me. The people who helped me over the years to become the woman I am today. It was you, who showed me who I am. And I thank you. Always.

Loves
Wendy xx