It’s been two years and two months since the day a doctor handed me my autoimm…
It’s been two years and two months since the day a doctor handed me my autoimmune diagnosis. If you had told that scared girl who carried around fifteen pounds of pure inflammation weight, who scouted out railings and nearby chairs to lean on whenever she walked into a room, whose brain was so foggy she feared she’d never have the energy to accomplish her dreams that this autoimmune disease would turn out to be the best thing that’s ever happened to her – you’d be met with one long, exaggerated
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