My new neighbors told me today that I look my age. They were like, oh yeah, I thought you were FORTY. I'm thirty-eight. I got sick at twenty-one. What happened to all those years in between when I didn't get to enjoy life because I've been mostly housebound by the disease? Where is my youth? I want it back. I'm really depressed since they told me that today. So I'm just supposed to accept that it's gone? And it doesn't look like I'm going to get miraculously well anytime soon, so is that it? No life for life? Seriously, that is so beyond words depressing. And because I got sick so young, I still feel twenty-one. So I'm stuck in a weird timewarp feeling, much like people who go to prison at young ages are. It's very strange.