fight like a girl

Today is not a good day. Today was the day I was reminded why I started writing this blog and the parts of me that I'm not a huge fan of. I wouldn't say hate because it's too strong and dislike doesn't even seem to feel right either. Today, after two years, I finally went to my Rhuematologist. Before I explain what happened and why today is not a good day. I want to explain some other things first. My history with JRA has always been something I'm not big on talking about with new people. If I know you have chronic pain or something similar, I will talk and bond with you over that. If you're just a friend and you don't see me in pain, I try to keep it that way. I try to hide it from everyone, even myself, because that is how I cope. I don't acknowledge it so therefore it is not there to me anymore. For some, this works. It works for me, mostly. But when I am reminded of pain and where it comes from, my emotions are a roller coaster of sad and angry

Something I wish I knew well was being pain free. I have few memories of being pain free, a lot of these memories I don't remember purposely because I didn't feel good or I didn't want to remember how I felt. I remember the times I felt good, though. I remember the first time I ever felt true relief. I remember wanting to cry because I didn't know what this feeling was but I just smiled because it was a magical moment that freed me. I understood what "pain free" really meant and truly felt like. I felt lighter, all over. My toes could move and wiggle. My fingers could extend further than ever before. I could grasp things and not want to cringe or just stop because it was uncomfortable. I felt like my knees could bend and I wouldn't want to fall over after a second of repeating a motion. I felt that my body wasn't my body anymore. My back felt like I could sit straight and roll my shoulders back enough to have proper posture. If this wasn't