The Girl With Arthritis

     A month ago, I remember putting my hand over my heart; I could feel it racing, pounding, and skipping beats. It was worn and tired, and so was I. The weeks leading up to that moment were brutal. For six weeks, I was lucky to get four hours of sleep most nights, and all my waking hours were spent stressed and working intensely for finals. Most days, I didn’t really talk to anyone and I skipped meals to accommodate more working hours. Ultimately, I was running myself into the ground. And I didn’t care.      But then came that moment, when I realized my heart was struggling from the stress. A long night in the emergency room made me stop working for the first time since March, and forced me to be still and reflect on my actions. I stared at the monitor that showed a heart that was trying so hard to slow down, and I thought about how cruel I’ve been to it.      It’s been an extremely hard year. I would love to sugar coat that statem...