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** I wrote this post almost two weeks ago, but was in a desperately dark place. Posting it didn’t, at that time, seem appropriate**

I find my self being very angry tonight.

Why? Because my boyfriend gave blood at a donation drive. I sat there and watch that guy sit through donation for a very selfless reason: Me. I can’t give blood ever again. Despite the Crohn’s, my anemia prevents me from helping someone in need. I find that very frustrating. That I’ve gone from one of the people who had nothing wrong to a person who could very well need blood. It doesn’t seem fair. But then, what is fair, in all of this? It all comes back to acceptance.

My anger about my Crohn’s has hit a peak once more. I’ve been feeling the odd and often fleeting emotion of depression since I finished counselling in July. But over the last couple weeks, its been ebbing and flowing on an almost daily basis. Trying to turn it around is hard, harder than I imagined. And most of all, its hardest to explain.

I don’t really know how to make sense of it to myself, let alone open my mouth and try to convince someone else what I feel is real. It is real to me, I deal with it – something with is quotable in itself – on a daily basis. I am tired of explain it.. even to myself. I ignore it, will it to go away. Get angry with it. And it bubbled to the surface tonight.

I sat in that group of people who were waiting to do a good deed, their one selfless act of the day. I wondered if they knew what I was doing there, why I was still sitting after a half hour. Wondered if they could notice what was wrong with me, if anything. I concluded that they probably didn’t. They were maybe too caught up being proud of themselves, of being part of the bigger picture. And this, this made me mad. It frustrated me that I am part of different system, I am the patient who gets bloods taken for tests, the one who will possibly to be given a transfusion, somewhere down the line. I am the person who is in the NHS system for a damn good reason. I am dependent on other people doing their jobs in order to make me better. My boyfriend felt on top of the world after his donation. I was steeped in hatred and wanted to kick him.

It was irrational, I know now. But in the heat of the moment I just wanted someone to understand that I was not used to this. I am not used to this, being on the other side. I’ve spent 23 years being healthy and trying to be helpful and good and trustworthy, to now be suddenly summoned to the other side. It is hard to believe, because I have so many years of being ‘normal’ and ‘healthy’. Being anything but that is different and it is difficult.

There is so much I can will myself to be, to feel, to want, to need; without feeling regretful and angry and broken inside. I am healed, I have good Crohn’s medications that work and I have my life back, as it was before I got sick. There is nothing broken about me, from the outside. But deep down, I hold a burning candle for my past. And I just can’t blow it out, not just yet.