Even through the darkest phase, be it thick or thin

He’s done.
He’s tired.
He’s over it – I know it. That’s why I never want to say anything. That’s why I never want to tell anyone. And then I do, and then I regret it. 

My blood work came back abnormal and my doctor wants me to meet with a specialist for a follow up. Genetically it makes sense that I’d have a chance at getting an autoimmune disorder, but I figured my father’s genetics would have countered them (for various reasons).  I am not happy as the different disorders my doctor has thrown around have an increased chance of me dying young- 

You know what?  Well played, God. 

Well. 
Played. 

I see what you did there. Don’t appreciate it and then you lose it. 

…But that doesn’t seem right either.  It’s not that I don’t appreciate life itself or even my life. I was born with this teeny, tiny trip wire in my brain that, somehow, got tripped. This trip wire overrides my evolutionary predisposition as a human being to want to proliferate and survive.  How the hell can I appreciate something I’ve been hard-wired to destroy?  It takes a lot of fucking introspection and work. A lifetime of work. If my life gets cut short, I’ll not have completed my chance to prove I can re-wire my system and really live this life. 

I’m not done yet. I can’t be done yet.  I haven’t even begun. 

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