This morning my boyfriend and I had a little argument. After some discussion on how I treat him better than he treats me, he said, “Yeah, but you get to stay home.” Really?  I’m like, “No, I’m disabled.” People don’t treat you as well when you’re not able to work, even if you draw a decent check. So, here’s the reality. I “get” to stay home. I also “get” to have debilitating depression and anxiety. I “get” to constantly struggle with everything and feel overwhelmed. I “get” to suffer with an extreme lack of energy. I “get” to feel horrible every single day of my life. I “get” to feel sad all the time. I “get” to procrastinate about everything. I “get” to dread everything I have to do. I “get” to neglect my needs. I “get” to contemplate suicide every now and then. I “get” to live in a dirty house which I can’t clean. I “get” to have a bad back. I “get” to suffer with panic attacks. I “get” to feel bad about myself. I “get” to have agoraphobia and struggle with leaving my house. I “get” to endure everyone’s judgment because I can’t get my shit together. The list goes on. I think I would much rather “get” to work, but that’s not my reality.