ENTRY DESCRIPTION
“You must be feeling good today if you’re out and about!”
Inhale.
“Are you feeling any better?”
Exhale.
“Honey you’re so tiny! You need to eat more!”
...Inhale.
“How are you doing?”
Ex...hale.
“I’m glad you’re feeling better now!”
In....hale...
“Honey you need to wear a bra.”
Ex....
“Hopefully you can get your life back.”
In.....
“On a scale of one to ten, rate your pain.”
....hale....
“You don’t even look sick.”
...........

It hurts.
I’m tired.
My chest feels tight.
I feel sick.
Help.

My illness is invisible. It hides from the human eye and steals from human life. The only visible proof it leaves is the damage left from trying to live with it. To humans, seeing is believing, so they often times forget that invisible thief's live among the people all around them. To them, if there’s no visible proof, then it must not exist. But trust me, it exists. It hurts. It makes my brain fog and my organs struggle to function. It makes my back ache and my muscles flare. It makes me exhausted and unable to sleep at the same time. It makes the lights too bright and the simple noises feel like canonblasts. It decided I was ready all at the good and ripe age of 16, and now three years later it still manages to fool everyone. Everyone but me. Sometimes I’m glad my illness is one people can’t see, because honestly, I don’t think they’d want to.

AUTHOR
I’m trying to earn money to save up for a service dog. I’m 19 years old and chronically ill. I can’t work, so competitions like these are the only way I can try and raise money. My dad always loved photography and from him I ended up forming a love for it too. I’m in no way a professional, but I think that’s alright, because the world was not meant to be viewed in every perfect angle. Sometimes the ugliest shots bring out the raw view of what life is, even if we don’t want to see it. Thank you for taking the time to read my bio!

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