Venting *Strong Language


This post is not for pity, but simply meant as a pathway for my negative feelings to leave me. This may upset some, it may not. This will be brutally honest. Right now I have a lot of emotions.


I’ve been feeling really left out of things lately.

I know that people are scared but damn it so am I.

Is it harder to hang out with me now knowing that I might die?

Is friendship just a dandelion flower? Did some just decide to finally let that last seed blow away?

Did you guys just decide when I was told “there’s nothing more we can do for you” that I was already dead?


I understand that people cope differently. I get that.

I understand that people are busy. I get that. No problem.

I am not saying that I want people to bend at my every whim and that they can’t do anything without me and that they always have to be up my ass.

But I mean it hurts when I see friend groups post about how fun last night was & I wasn’t even invited. It would be nice to feel wanted. Just an invitation tells me “Hey, I know you got some stuff going on and I thought about you.”

I get bars and places that smoking is allowed in the buildings because I cannot be there because of my lung disease.

Its still hard to see it because I would love to be healthy enough to tag along, but I am still glad to see my friends having a good time even if it doesn’t sound like it.



This next section will be, as my 7th grade teacher called it, brain vomit. Brain vomit is writing down everything that comes to mind. Of course we used it for justification in mathematics, but I like to apply it to many things in life.

I am not dead and since I am not dead I still have feelings and sometimes since I do have feelings, they get hurt.  Yes, there is a possibility that my life could end soon. You know what? Theres a possibility that ANYONE’S life could end soon. I feel like that should be the REASON you want to hang out. Shit spend as much time with me as you can right now so that when that time comes, and hopefully it won’t for a long time, you don’t have any regrets.

Illness does not make me a different person. The oxygen in my nose and the puffy steroid cheeks are not an excuse for you to stay away.

I am more than cancer.

I am more than lung disease.

I am learning.

I am trying.

I am not dead.

Think about how you feel knowing I’m at the end of my treatment options. Now think about how I feel.

I have spent my whole life trying to make others happy. Thinking of others and how they feel and how my actions might make them feel. Well f*ck me if I would appreciate the same damn respect.

I am a good friend and I deserve good friends, too.

I love you guys, but I’m not feeling the love.


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