Dear Pen Pal,
I will not give up the way I live my life out of fear of dying, because the day that I begin to live my life just to preserve it I will have already lost it. I have never been so unsure of anything in my life, I donât know what is wrong with me, what I do know is that if it is trying to kill me it is doing a good job. I am scared and stressed, there is no doubt about that, but at the same time I am ready for a fight. I donât know what I am fighting so it is difficult for me to strike back.
I donât see an end in sight except for a tragic one. I have always considered myself mentally tough, but perhaps this is my first true test. The last few months of my life have been torture, the scariest days of my living, and I feel not many people understand the severity of what I am experiencing. I want to be able to leave behind a legacy. I want my name to never be forgotten, but I feel that no matter how large you are, time eclipses you and only a shadow of you remains. Not once have I questioned, âWhy me?,â because I wouldnât wish this type of bizarre, twisted illness on anyone in the world.Â
On a more positive note, I promise that once I have my full health back, no one will work harder than me. No one will live life more fully than I will, I donât know if my recovery will be anytime soon, but it will be a grand recovery for sure. I donât quite know what is happening to me, but for all of my limitations I was born with twice as many capabilities. I can still read, write, love, think, appreciate, communicate, develop skills, etc. I am not bound by these physical restrictions, I am only redirected by them. I want to change the lives of millions, so that even if mine doesnât turn out so great I can still make those of othersâ great. There is a lot that I know about life, and there is a lot that I donât, but I will continue to learn and continue to be confused and I am okay with that. I might not be famous, I might not be rich, I might not even be successful, but I will be happyâŚ
Love,
Ryan Anthony Dube
(dated 2.5.14)
*Authorâs Note*
For one year, I suffered from severe psychosomatic anxiety triggered by psychological trauma experienced during my first international trip to India. I spent my days and night sick and stressed, in and out of hospitals, perpetually plagued by a belief that I was dying. Each night, I would say the Lordâs Prayer to myself before I fell asleep out of fear that I may not wake up again. This letter is a journal entry that I wrote to myself on one of my darkest days. It was a desperate promise, a vow, that I wouldnât give up living life, that death would have to take it from me. Tilâ this day, I am so proud of the courageous boy who wrote these defiant words.
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