Sometimes I want to Poke Someone with a Fork

I look at myself physically, and not like how I appear or anything, but what my body does physically.

Arthritis is unfortunately a big factor in my life. It effects and decides everything I am going to do. It decides if I am going to take a walk on a nice day. If I am going to be able to do any major cleaning that day. If I am going to take my son out to the mall.

It decides how much I am able to play with my son.

I. Hate. It.

I never wanted to worry about this until I was at least maybe even thirty, but I have had this since I was in 4th grade. It makes even doing my art difficult. It is one of the few things I am good at, and I feel hindered.

When I do push through my arthritis I feel worse.

When I get frustrated, I want to take my frustrations and throw them into a pile.

I am merely good at some things, but never excellent at anything.

I want to excel in something so I can amount to something. I want to be able to pull my own weight, not be a weight.

I need to find whatever created arthritis and beat them with the fork and proceed to poke their entrails with it.

I am done ranting now. Time to draw. Thank you.

--- I wonder if they still make degrees in philosophy.