I've been asked to write a paragraph about living with CFS.

My life with CFS was kicked off with a harrowing 3 months of pneumonia. I tried to pretend it wasn't happening by continuing pre-med classes, and dance, only to find myself in bed and in bone cracking pain at every minute I wasn't in lab or rehearsal. Slowly, piece by piece I watched the things that made my life mine fall away. Instead, it became doctors that didn't believe me, living back at home and wishing my parents a good time when they went out dancing at age 22. I broke down in anger and tears weekly, trying to cry out the unfairness. That was 16 years ago. CFS and I have a different relationship now. I realize it has sent my life down a very unusual path, one with unrelentless suffering, but also one that gives a person a lot of time to think and watch how people live. This horrific disease has given me the opportunity to really put together how and who I want to be, and that, oddly enough, has been precious.