Symone | Chronic Illness

  Trigger Warning: This post discusses chronic illness, medical struggles, and emotional experiences related to diagnosis and disability. Today my pain finally had a name: Degenerative Disc Disease . It’s strange how a diagnosis can feel like both grief and validation at the same time. For anyone living with chronic pain: keep advocating for yourself. Keep asking questions. You deserve answers and care. 🖤 There are moments in life that quietly split your story into two timelines: before you knew, and after you did. I recently went to an orthopedic appointment because of the pain that has been living in my back for so long. The kind of pain that becomes part of your daily routine. The kind you try to push through because you still have responsibilities, people who need you, and a life that doesn’t pause just because your body is struggling. When you live with chronic illness, you learn to normalize pain. You tell yourself it’s just another flare. Another bad day. Another thing yo...

  Trigger Warning: child-on-child sexual abuse, mentions of drug addiction. Just me, my cozy fit, and a little love-filled corner of Heartopia ✨💌 My birthday is on the fifteenth. For most people, that sentence carries something light. A hint of celebration. A memory of cake, candles, laughter, people gathering around you because your existence matters. For me, it carries something else entirely. Growing up, we celebrated my birthday on the first of the month. Not because that was my birth date, but because that was when the food stamps and cash assistance came in. There was never enough stability in our home to make it last until the fifteenth. Addiction dictated the calendar. Chaos decided what mattered. And I learned very early that my actual birthday did not. The first of the month was survival dressed up as celebration. If there was cake, it was because the benefits had just hit. If there was a gift, it was because something hadn’t yet been traded, sold, or used up. I was exp...