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Comparing versions of And the Beat Goes On

Showing changes between August 30, 2011 at 11:54:12 am (crossed out) and August 30, 2011 at 12:01:58 pm (underlined)

In a class I am currently taking I was asked to consider myself as a writer. I found that impossible to do without thinking of this class. So, here we go!
they do the same things,things as professionsal, but they don't get
That is something I found myself forced to consider last Autumn. I was taking three master's classes, full time, and struggling. Not with the material, but with a great deal of pain. It was making my life very difficult. I found myself unable to sleep because of the pain, unable to sit still because of the pain, unable to keep up because of the pain. I was diagnosed with Ehlers-Danlos syndrome which is a genetic disorder in which my body does not produce enough collagen to support my joints and other connective tissue. There is no cure and no treatment, only symptom management. That was a crushing blow. And the first of three. Two weeks later, my father was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. One week after that, my mother-in-law died suddenly from a stroke. It was all too much and I needed to retreat and regroup, so I withdrew from school.
The professor of my technical writing class offered me an opportunity that became a lifeline. He had set up the class to include a wiki. Though we met once a week, our writing was to be done on line. This way, we could write, and give and receive feedback continuously. Though I could not receive credit for participation, he allowed me to continue the on line portion of the class. He said. "April, you are a writer. You need to continue to write. I would love it if you use this for an outlet." That really struck me. I was a writer? One who needed an outlet? I highly esteem this professor, so I took his advice and took him up on his offer. One of the first things I wrote was a poem. If I never considered myself I writer, I certainly never considered myself a poet. I was never even drawn to reading poetry, much less writing it. But, I had suddenly realized that I am a writer, and now it was being taken away from me. I had to let the emotion out. I wrote:
Caged
I am becoming trapped inside myself

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