I talked to Snow over the phone while my pain level rose beyond bearing. She asked why it’s so bad when its warm outside….. It keeps raining, the temperature is fluctuating.

I heard meaning behind her words that she didn’t say. She asked why my pain is so high when it’s warm. I heard her say, you’ve had a lot of symptoms since the updated diagnosis. It’s warm outside, you don’t have a justifiable reason to be in pain. She didn’t say that, not at all.

Everything in my body misfired, including the connectors in my brain.

I got the updated diagnosis, an extension of the Lupus, close to the cold, rainy winter. All it takes is for the barometer to drop by a tiny bit. If its 30 I can bear it. If its 29.99 my body screams. If its 29.68 like it was last evening then I scream. I took pain meds which took me from a 10 to a 9.

As long as I’m at an 8 I’ll manage. Hitting a ten feels as if I’ll lose my mind. I want to rip my skin off.  It’s like having termites gnaw at my spine. I felt every bite. There was a fire raging in my shoulder blades all the way to my scalp. The soles of my feet were too tender for any pressure. My sciatic nerve on the left side joined the party, late.

Lupus and the other issues I have are degenerative. It seems as though my sanity is degenerative as well.

On Facebook there was a discussion about how January usually has high suicide rates. I don’t remember why. I just remember the conversation that took place included information about the risk of suicide with chronic illness. I survived last night but when I look back and see myself I think, I can’t live through that again. The emotional trauma of chronic illness wears at me. Remembering what happened to my body, remembering the fear, seeing myself vomit, hearing myself scream, clinching the covers then laying there wasted, too tired to move. Knowing what I went through and knowing I’m going to do it again makes me desperate and impulsive. That’s where suicide comes in my mind. How many times will I do this before my body fails? Feeling this tired I start to think, what’s the point of continuing like this?

Cleaning up in the restroom, I refused to look at myself in the mirror, couldn’t stand the sight of me. The clean up was long and arduous.

I used my safety plan yesterday and will use it today,  but I think the only way to get all this off my body and out of my head is to let myself cry. I will.


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