RA I hate you. 

I hate the way my hands look. 

I hate the fear that sets in.  .

I hate the tears.

I hate doubting myself.

I hate wondering what the morning will bring.

I hate dressing around my abilities to maneuver zippers or buttons.

I hate not being able to do everything I want to do.

And I especially hate the fact that my gratitude for my good health is completely overshadowed by my bad health.