It’s taken me over 14 years to realize that it wasn’t my lungs fault.

Today has been an odd day for me. I’ve done productive things and feel very proud about them. I was ready to settle down. Then, I was down the hall and I saw something I wasn’t expecting. I paused, stared, and then went to the bathroom, shut the door, and sat on the closet floor. I began to gallop all over my mind “Your diseases are the cause; It’s you…” Then I began to cry, I was crying like there’s no tomorrow.

In those moments, I’m thinking “I blame you, all of you”- my lungs. As I’m crying, I’m imagining I’m staring at my lungs and I’m blaming them. I was throwing the fault on them without realizing it wasn’t their fault, it’s actually mine.

I’m crying in the closet, then after dumping tears on the ground, I realize it is my fault. My lungs are a part of me that will fail till the end, but my mind won’t between.
I let my mind build an empire of anger toward my lungs and I never stopped. I cried until I was a fleshy tomato shade, washed my face and sat on my bed.

It’s tough to tell myself that it’s my fault that I hate my lungs, not my lungs. Because I am breathing and living.

COPD does limit my physical adventures, but not my mental exploration. Keeping my mind cleansed of self-loathing will help me live a positive life which will hopefully lessen flares.

It’s taken me over 14 years to realize that it wasn’t my lungs fault.


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