REMEMBER THOSE? Still have my old ones. My penmanship was beautiful Now I can’t write, but at least I Have those nice memories. I can’t see the computer screen well, and typing this is a nightmare. But I need proof of my existence. Some where to complain & share my emotions with.so…..
Dear Blog,
Last night my husband revealed to me that stem cells don’t hep progressive m.s. I was starting to research a doctor for myself that would perform a stem cell procedure on me. My husband didn’t want to tell me. I see why; I’m crying, depressed, and out of hope.I guess I just want some way to vent. To feel cuz I ain’t feelin; so good& I doubt things can get worse…But they can. And they will. I’ve got progressive m.s. FUCK~“~I can’t deal. But I must. Its my trial/weight to carry. There’s no why? No answers. Just questions that haunt me. I don ‘t know if I will link this to social media. I don’t want pity or love or prayers. I WANT A FUCKING CURE. L.O’Brien

I’m not paranoid. I just don’t think you like me. I don’t get invited to your little get togethers;that I’m not supposed to know about. It’s tough being friends with me, you say I can’t keep secrets. I apologies, I’m not a good liar. But hey, I don’t lie! I don’t want to be abused, lied to, hurt. I hold onto my friends so dearly; as I can’t walk, dance or drive. However I don’t need your pity. I don’t need fake in my life. Reality is hard enough. I’m not paranoid. Just a little pissed.M.S. is worse than anything you could possibly throw at me…..I’m not paranoid.