A look at what happens when you've climbed back out of the rabbit hole.

Thursday, March 24, 2011

A Letter to My Disease

Dear Liar,

So many, many broken promises. So many nights lying awake, hungry, head pounding, pinching fat and feeling bones. So many dollars flushed down the toilet. So many people deceived. So much hurt.

You walked in with a James Dean swagger, all bravado and empty promises. You told me I'd be free. You told me I'd be strong. You told me I'd be happy. You knew all along.

I hate you for robbing me of myself. I hate you for convincing me, time and again and year after year, that I'm not worth anything. I hate you for what you've done to my body. I hate you for making me manipulate the people I love. I hate you for everything.

Now go. Leave me alone. Let me pick up the shattered pieces of my soul and attempt to reconstruct them into something meaningful. Don't come back again. You are unwelcome. You are a liar and a cheater and a thief. I can get by without you. I WILL get by without you.

Ungratefully Yours,
Cassie

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