When I realized I was sick and it was not going away, I was sad. I felt that other people could never understand what I was going through and it wasn’t ok with me that all my young, healthy friends were so carefree about their health. POTS defined my life and that just didn’t seem fair. I had to grow up because I had to face a life-altering challenge with the maturity it required and my friends did not. This caused a rift between us that was difficult to bridge. With time, though, I came to accept my fate. I have POTS and am probably going to have it for a long time. In some ways, this was a cathartic realization. I had accepted what was wrong with me and all that was left was to learn to live with it. And that is exactly what I have done. I’m not going to pretend like I don’t have bad days, because I certainly do, but POTS is what I have, not who I am and I try to live my life accordingly.