Okay, look assholes.
Before I started to get sick, I had an awesome career stretching out ahead of me. Sure, the arthritis hurt sometimes, but Aleve or ibuprofen usually managed it fine. I was going to do field biology, going out and seining for fish, testing streams, slogging through wetlands, you name it. I was going to maintain aquariums for the public. I was going to wrangle snakes, kiss frogs, and be the first to find the ivory-billed woodpecker in Cuba (yeah yeah don't say it).
I was a Type A personality. I LIVED to work 12+ hours days. Every moment of overtime I could get? I took it. Could I fill in on a Saturday for a sick coworker? OH CAN I! Could I stop in to make the place spiffy on my day off for a VIP? Nothing would please me more!
And then my body rebelled. And I hurt all the time, and no OTC drug would make it stop. I am crushingly exhausted. Going to the grocery store was once fun for me, and now it is a painful, detested chore. Someone brushes my upper arms, and it feels like I was punched.
I didn't ask for this. I don't WANT to have my options limited. I want to do something with my knowledge. I want to be out there in a swamp, looking for rare salamanders and endangered turtles. I want to be on a boat, hauling in a heavy net full of fish. I want to throw myself into working 12, 14, 16 hours a day.
But I can't anymore. I've been wrecked from the inside out by something that people claim isn't even real. I'm accused of wanting to be lazy, of not wanting to have to work for a living. Well, fuck you. Nothing would make me happier than working my ASS off. But I can't, and it fucking sucks.
I'd give anything for this shit to be imaginary. ANYTHING. But it isn't. Your saying it is doesn't make it so, and if you think it is, you can go fuck yourself. You have NO idea. People like you? I shouldn't, but I truly and honestly wish this upon you. You deserve it for being uncompassionate assholes who don't have enough IMAGINATION to empathize with someone whose life is different from your own.