my body, my pain

I have no idea what I'm doing. I have this drive to be something of a martyr, a public figure or at least a devout public servant. All of me screams in anger about my situation will dragging my stupid loose towards this goal of living with a purpose which serves others and not myself. I am fine with this aim. I've never expected much for my life, at least not in a real way. I had small hopes before but nothing like this. This I am because a future in this body is bleak.

My pain limits me from having the life I always dreamed if. I'm capable of that life. But not with this pain. I can't simply power through the pain. My prognosis is slow decay. And while I am trying hard to be as healthy as possible I cannot change everything at once.

I write laying in bed wondering if I will conquer this. If I will find myself in another two, five years laughing with my hands on my hips pain free and able to live the life I always dreamed of. Maybe I'm just getting one step closer to acceptance of the life in trapped in. Pushing myself beyond limits for everyone but myself.