My arches of my feet werescreaming from the three inch spikes I had to learn to walk on. The Nextday she took me to a beauty salon and got my hair mad... up long like agirls. She gave me what they call hair extensions. I also got a lot ofmakeup and spent hours learning how to do it all. She got my eyebrowswaxed. The intensive training continued over the next several weeks andsomething new happened every day. I slowly got accustomed to all of thenew housework. It wasn't all that bad. I helped my. I trulyunderstood guilt, I have had my share of it over the last few years.Seeing how my parents constantly worried and cried over my and myillness. I couldn't help but feel that it was my fault, even though Iknew logically that I had no say in the matter. I still felt it though,quite often actually. Now the guilt is because I'm struggling to acceptmy situation. Because when I struggle it causes my parents to worry evenmore... That's all on me. I know that. I realized I'd have still tried. More

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