I never thought of myself as a quiter. Not when I changed majors in college, not when I changed my job, and not when I left my boyfriend of six years. But I still think of that moment- the moment when I quit. I remember the words, “God- please take me home.”
I felt raped. It changes you- those feelings.
I remember telling myself stories in the car on my way to work. I remember one called “Rainbow Girl”. She slowly lost her colors until she was just black and gray. Rainbow Girl, that was me. The girl who had it all, the Ivy League education,the boyfriend genius, the friends, the condo, and the smile, so peaceful and happy and then- like many things in life, it was gone.
Having MS is like being raped. The attack is always a surprise, the damage always an asault that leaves a scar, the victim is always- always alone.
I am a victim of MS and this I believe, an MS attack is like being raped. Each time it gets harder and harder to be who you know you are and hide the scars.
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