It seems so long ago. I was so young, so naive. I still remember. I remember the cold, walking to class. Then I remind myself I have only felt that cold twice since then. That little girl I remember has only grown two years, but acquired a lifetime worth of knowledge.

     I was shivering, walking, laughing with my friend on my way from gym class. I didn't take gym; I rarely took gym so we were probably laughing at that. I felt so sad at that time; the laughter had only masked my tears. I think back about how I had the whole world in my palm; I had a ton of friends, I finally found a school I loved, my grades were great, and I had my family. Everything was perfect.

     I woke up everyday at 4:45, went to school until 3:30 and then went out and had a very active social life and usually went to school on a few hours or often no sleep at all. The best part of my life was always my Mom. My only family, but more then enough. She had always told me to be happy, and I continued to cry to her every night for no reason at all. The doctor said I had depression, but as I've learned a lot through my life, misdiagnosis is common. I was consumed in a selfish world of self pity.

     Then one phone call turned my whimpers of sadness to screams of hatred. My open world with skies blue of sadness covered with dark clouds of anger. I remember how mad I was seeing the hospital with the person lying in there the one who least deserved to be. She could've been dead. My Mom could've died and all I'd given her were my petty burdens that not only wrongly consumed my world, but hers.

     If you think that had made me appreciative you did not know me then. You did not know me then, because I was alone. There may have been many people around me acting like they cared but in reality I was alone. I didn't know what was wrong with my Mom; the doctors didn't know what was wrong with my Mom. She was sick, like a severe flu but all the test results were negative. I slept in a chair every night beside her. I spent my birthday beside her in that chair. Then I forgot. I forgot everything. I remembered writing a school paper. I remembered how mad I was that anyone would ask me to write a school paper right now. Didn't they know what I was going through? Didn't they know how hard it was to see you're Mom like that and how much energy it took out of you?

     They didn't know how tired I was. The girl who never slept and was never tired was so exhausted. So, the floor decided I needed a nap. It rushed up to meet me and when I woke up I forgot who my Dad was and I forgot what happened. As I started to remember, I wished the memories had escaped me forever. I wouldn't remember the busy life I had, the full dreams for the future. I wouldn't remember all the friends I had. Then I wouldn't remember the cold anymore. The wonderful tingling of winter and how it made me laugh, and now it only makes me sick. If I didn't remember it - then it wouldn't hurt so badly when it was all ripped away from me in one instant. I wasn't ready to grow up. I didn't make any choices. The once tightly knotted ribbons if my life unraveled for me, the floor came to me, the illness found me. I didn't ask for it. It still happened. I just watched it in slow motion. My life played out this long excruciating movie more terrifying then the apocalypse.

     At least there was no one in that movie. In mine there were people all around that didn't hear me, pretended not to see me, and eventually forgot I even existed. The film must've had damage though because every time I stood to change it the screen went black. I lay on the couch, a broken person. I once was fun and strong and sad. Now, I laid on the couch in pieces. Broken. My four lost months. The bedridden months I gained more then the people who acted their own scenes in life. I once was incapable of happiness. Then I was incapable of everything. Happiness didn't find me like weakness did. I found it. I worked everyday for it because if I had to deal with loosing my life I couldn't manage to survive without gaining a smile. I lost my life; I learned my friends were never there. I watched as the illness devoured me and It wasn't nearly as painful as watching it happen to my Mom. I hit rock bottom. But now I am happy. Now I appreciate everything. I'm not sure how it happened but I was still in control of the decision to work for my happiness although I was an invalid on every other level. So I made the choice. Today I can do a lot. A lot for me. It makes me even happier, I have dreams and goals and I pray everyday I can meet them. I work everyday to meet them. I appear normal, and I like that. I don't know how long I can appear normal, but I thank God that now I can. Even the ones closest to me don't know how I struggle still everyday, they don't know that the excuses I make are because I'm sick and I just hide it well. I won't burden them because I have enough experience to tell when they don't really care. It doesn't faze me. I truly believe that despite this, I am the luckiest person in the world. I have learned to be the happiest. Awareness for my disability is once of the most important things in the world to me, but awareness of life I value more. Don't wait for you're life to be turned completely upside down to work for the choice to be happy in it. I never took the opportunity to dance in the rain. Now I can't. Ill never be able to stand and have enough energy during a rain storm to dance ever again. So I've learned to smile in it.