Multiple Sclerosis is the name that the doctors told me.
I was seventeen years old.
"Unfortunately you have Multiple Sclerosis"
As if it didn't need explaining. As if I was just supposed to know what it meant.
"It's not really life threatening"
But I will have it for the rest of my life?
"We should start medication immediately. Injections are three times a week and oral medication is twice a day everyday"
For the rest of my life?
"The sooner we start the better. We don't want your condition to worsen"

My condition? Can you hear me? What's happening? What's going on?

I felt invisible. Burdened by a disease that cannot be seen.
Because my body sees itself as the enemy.
I am the enemy.
They tell you that you are you are in this world alone and that all you should lean on is yourself tell me what happens when it is yourself fighting the self. When my battle is coming from within.
When it is my body that is failing me.

And I am faced with doctors who call my sclerosis a condition, who tell me it's not serious, who rush me out the door to welcome their next patient and they tell me to be patient when I am asking questions as if I am not patiently waiting for my body to implode against itself because my self is fighting a war everyday and I am tired.

Mommy, you told me I was made from stardust, you told me that inside of me their are little soldiers who ensure that my body is working
but mommy you forgot to tell me that they are fighting me
You forgot to tell me that when I stand up for too long pins and needles will claim my body and force me to sit
You forgot to tell me that sometimes I will wake up and I will feel normal, life will give me a taste of what it feels like to be free.

And mommy I forgot to tell you that today I didn't even feel like getting out of bed.
I forgot to tell you that it wasn't my shoe that slipped on the stairs that made me fall, it was my legs going numb