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TakenMy physical wounds have healed faster than emotional wounds. There's a real fear that time will pass, I'll 'look better', and people will forget that on the inside I'm still struggling.

When all this first happened and for the entire 5 months, friends leaped to my assistance. I had more visitors than I knew what to do with. 🙂 I felt loved. Now that things are going back to my version of normal with Lupus, I fear being left and yet I know the fear is unfounded. My friends love me and I know it, and I know that they were there for me before all this happened. But there's this fear that all the love and attention is going to stop, and I'll fade right into the background and be forgotten. I like the feeling of being loved. It's not entirely new but its new enough that with a taste of it I don't want to let it go. ...continue reading "Don’t Forget Me"

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I feel a quiet desperation inside.

I've had nightmare for the past few nights and have had a hard time waking up during the day. I'm exhausted.

I don't feel worthy of much. I sometimes hate myself enough to want to slice my arms to shreds. I have not and will not, but I recognize the symptom for what it is.

Sometimes I think the only reasonable thing to do is give up. Giving up doesn't mean dying.

I'm still creatively constipated! I've got a beautiful new art table that I have yet to use. I'm still working in my art journal. What's wrong with me that I can't paint? I'm depressed, maybe even lonely. ...continue reading "Desperation and Depression"

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12 painful stairs to a tiny room. Each step felt like I couldn't cry any more than I did one step earlier. I made it up the stairs and laid on the air mattress with a slow leak and asked myself, "is it worth it?" can't I just stop taking meds and let nature take its course in a matter of days? Then the real me took a breath! I was reminded that this is very temporary. I'm with friends who, though of humble means truly love me. And honestly, I'd rather be here than in a nursing home with workers who like me but who don't do half of what they should. ...continue reading "A difficult start"

I take life for granted until I go head first into a moment that tangles with sobriety. My eyes are wide open to how fragile people are and how they too live life blinded, until they absolutely have to see.

I've got another blood clot situation. My fear is that it'll threaten the left leg.

The other day I was tucked in bed when it hit me - I miss popcorn. I miss homemade, buttery, kernel corn. I miss fruit drinks on movie night. What I really miss is life as I knew it. I miss the chaotic apartment, the art, the high and driven spirit that set goals, and wanted to live as more than a survivor. The more I let myself think about what I miss, the further away I got from acceptance of this new life and its possibilities.

I'm not emotionally strong enough to look back and think about what I miss. I have to focus forward. I have to work on accepting or letting go according to my abilities. It's hard to focus that much though. It's hard not to panic and scream, IT'S NOT FAIR! I know it's not fair. I absolutely know it but to sit in that right now isn't going to help anything. It won't help me focus on the things that are within my control. I need to focus on options and care plans not each piece of life I miss. If I do that I'll rob myself of much needed energy. I need all my energy because Lord knows I'm tired.

Faith

Dear Head,

We aren't friends today. Your behavior has divided us, putting a rift and a scar in an already shakey relationship. At this very second I can't tell the world all you've done because my body is attacking me with the strongest sleep spell I've ever felt. This half awake, druling, snoring, head bobbing, heavy eyed fight has been lost. I'm captive with no choice but to surrender. However, when I'm released, I'm going to tell them everything. I'm going to spill my guts and tell the world how you, brain, tried your best to depress, discourage and break me. I'm going to tell them everything as soon as my body releases me.

Lupus fatigue & depression, bites.

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I would say I've hit a rough patch but this is no patch, this is a field. Now I have to figure out how I'm going to traverse this ground with its pits and stones.

Today has been difficult but quiet, manageable. Anxiety is high, still, and my body hurts from head to toe. That's nothing new. Pain is as common as flowers. I feel it everywhere I turn but, being a few days out of the thick of depression means I see a little light ahead.

What a nightmare it's been. Today isn't. Today has been difficult but manageable. Yeah, I'm in my field of "flowers" and I'm a bit worn down, but I'm still here. I made it. I made it through that cycle of depression.

Faith

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I read to him the entry I wrote about being angry with him. I then assured him I will not lie to him about feeling suicidal or depressed. I need to trust him and he needs to trust me.

I cried from open to close of the session. It's been a hard day physically and emotionally. I had to take pain medication because of spasms in my legs and stomach. I tried to manage as long as I could without pain meds but after a bit it's reasonable to take a dose to ease things up. I also took some of my Passion Flower tincture to help ease anxiety associated with pain. I'm surprised I was able to stay awake for the session. ...continue reading "Therapy review: What I need to hear"

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Depression is a liarMy hormonal depression drags me around like a mop head picking up dirty and left over grime. I can't get off the floor.

Depression is a liar. Depression tells me that people who care don't love me at all. It tells me I hate them for letting me down when in fact they really haven't. I'm angry with people who love me and its fueled by depression. It's a lie that it won't matter if I'm dead, or it'll be a relief because they can get on with their own problems instead of dealing with me all the time.  ...continue reading "Depression is a liar"

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When I talked to Dr. D he asked how I did with him gone. I didn't want him to think I cared or needed him so I told him I did just fine. I told him I needed the vacation time too, which is true. I didn't want him to go for two weeks. The timing felt bad. I felt like I was in the middle of a medical crisis and really needed my therapist. He has this confidence that my friends will support me. My friends are confident my therapist will support me. I don't feel too supported with the depression and such lately. Someone else will do it, that seems to be the standard.

...continue reading "First session after vacation. Angry with the therapist."

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The medical doctor suggested that Gabapentin withdrawal, not Lyrica is the culprit and that perimenopause is also playing a part in this emotional and medical crisis. She made some suggestions to improve the terrible mood swings such as Dong quai and Black cohosh. The University of Maryland explains why I chose to use Black cohosh despite possible weight gain. Again, I've chosen the lesser of two evils.

When asked why I didn't lower the dose of Lyrica when it was originally thought to be a problem, I told her, at this point I'm more afraid of the pain than of my mind. ...continue reading "Depression. Suicide. Medication. Perimenopause."

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