Looking at me,

People assume I'm a healthy, happy girl.

 

Invisible illnesses are forgotten when disability is brought up.

 

This poem isn't about my genetic disorder,

or the surgeries,

or the medicines.

 

Its about getting over my struggles

and learning to be a teen again.

 

You see, I push myself so hard,

too hard.

I push to my breaking point

and hate myself when I am physically incapable

of whatever task I have set my mind on.

 

I tried cutting myself off from the world.

Isolating myself so I wouldn't compare myself to the "normal" kids.

Only focusing on my studies,

I wasted away.

 

All that was left was a shriveled bookworm.

Hiding between the pages of textbooks.

 

It took what felt like a millennia

to finally leave my seclusion

and try to live again.

 

I tried reaching out to old friends

and meeting new ones.

I spent time forcing myself to live.

 

I felt myself growing,

blooming.

I realized that I may not be normal

but that isn't bad.

 

I'm different

but I can still enjoy life.

I am still worth happiness.