It’s 2:47 am when I first wake up to rush to the bathroom. As I look in the mirror, under the buzzing glow of the overhead fluorescent lights, I can’t help but feel trapped within my own body. All at once, I feel so confined to my internal reality, yet deep down, I am desperately scratching at the boundaries of my own body.
“Disability is not a bad word. It is not offensive. We should not be afraid of it.”
Today I talk about how I found what coping skill worked best for me to manage my IBD and my mental health.