I do not have a story to tell where my family or my friends turned their back on me. I must be one lucky gal that I am surrounded by people, who loves and adores me and who tries so hard to help my family. “You are a strong person!” they say all the time. Strength is my middle name. I am energetic, full of life, a great critical thinker and almost always know how to get through tough times or help others do. It is not easy being strong It is also not easy to have a bubbly personality. People are used to seeing the wonderful, strong woman, mother and wife.So strong that when she is falling apart, despite all the support she has, she does not know how to cry. It is not because I feel tears are a sign of weakness, it is because my tears multiply in others. My children worry, my husband worries, my family worries, my extend family worries, my friends worry. Seeing the fear in their eyes brings me down even further. So no I do not shed any tears, but those tears are sitting there ready tone shed. I feel selfish looking at my many lymey friends. They are alone and left to suffer. I still cannot help, but feel alone myself. My abilities are being stolen away from me, whether I have a good support system or not. What a twisted thing life is!

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