I can’t trace the origin, but I grew up with this sense of foreboding. Though I was a happy kid, I had this expectation that something physical or maybe existential would befall me. My reaction was probably an unconscious one: I exercised religiously, took up boxing, read philosophy, identified with survivor stories, probably all to be ready.
“I remember the first year being very hard. I lived in fear: fear of stigma, fear of being seen differently, as ill. I stayed close with friends, but let very few in on my diagnosis.”
By Luke Johnson