Lupus Lily

I have decided to name my Lupus, Lily. I figured since my Lupus is not going away anytime soon I might as well try to befriend her. Yesterday morning when I woke up Lupus Lily was beating on me worse than she ever has. I could hardly even walk. I know I have been doing too much lately but I have so many things in life that I want to do and have been too afraid to do. Lupus Lily could decide to attack my kidneys tomorrow and shut them down. IF that happens I want to be able to say that despite having Lupus I did this and that. I don’t want to live part of a life because of Lupus. If it means trips to the ER for relief then so be it. I don’t want to look back and say I should have. I can now look back and say I did it.

Today was pretty uneventful. I did discover that when I need a good cry I keep going back and sitting on the same old stump. When we first moved to the farm I had chosen that spot as my kinda “secret garden” type thing. Then it got logged and my area was gone. I still go sit there except now its a jumbled up mess. For some reason I am drawn to that spot. I go sit there, on my stump, in my spot, and cry.

Sometimes I feel like no one understands what its like to have severe anxiety and PTSD plus Lupus. An example of how things are for me now. I try to walk at least a little bit each day. This morning I felt really good some my hubs and I walked a little further than I usually do. I was feeling great and then bam! I could hardly move. My joints got stiff and the pain was setting in. Then I start to oanic. Worrying if I can make it back home or not. Because of barely being able to pick my feet up I kept getting caught in berry vines and almost fell numerous times. I almost asked my hubs to go get the Tracker and come pick me up. I didn’t because I was already so humiliated. I just gritted my teeth and walked on home. So my morning started off emotional which lead to a severe panic attack. Been on edge ever since.

I am going to try to get some rest and pray that this funk will go away. ❤️

Overthrown

Its 7:15 and I am already hurting. Been up for almost two hours. The longer I am awake the worse the pain is. I really did not want to cry today but have been off and on since I woke up. Hopefully I can get in to see the doctor today. My mind has so much static right now. I just want it all clear so I won’t feel so low.  So much has happened over the past few weeks that even a “normal” person would be ready to shut down. I have been looking for a word that goes beyond defeated. When I looked up the word defeated the word “overthrown” was used a lot in the results. Seeing that word over and over made me realize I still have some spark left in me. No way will the devil overthrow me.  I will keep fighting.   I just need to roll with the waves a little bit longer. Keep praying and this will all soon be over.

The White Wall

For a long time when my husband would touch my exposed breasts I would feel like I was being attacked. I would lie there with my teeth gritted waiting for the contact to end. I have prayed so hard to not feel like that. Its not fair to me and especially not fair to my husband. Then today a blocked out memory exposed itself. When I was 13 I had stayed the night with a friend who had a much older brother. I don't have a lot of memory from that day. I remember falling asleep on their couch and him waking me up. The next thing I know he was removing my clothes but kept his on. I was scared and confused. When I started to tear up he told me to look at the wall and not him. His main focus was on my breasts. That's why I feel so dirty when my exposed breasts are touched. I have spent so many years feeling ashamed that when my own husband touches me I sometimes feel so dirty. After the older brother fondled me he then penetrated me. Only for a minute or so then he got up and said he got what he wanted. I guess taking the virginity of a 13 year old was an accomplishment for him. 

One of the saddest part of what happened to me is that I was labeled a slut by my peers. I had people stop talking to me and rumors spread that I had a venereal disease. Not once was his name drug through the mud. He was patted on his back for his "accomplishment". No one batted an eye that he had sex with a 13 year old. The slut label stuck with me for a long time. I admit that after that I earned that title. I was looking for affection in the wrong ways. There was a void in me that I was trying to fill by being promiscuous. I hated myself and did not know why. A few months after I was sexually assaulted was the first time I legitimately attempted suicide. I remember taking a bunch of my dads muscle relaxers because I wanted to die. I thought it was because I was being bullied and called horrible names. I blamed myself for the way others were treating me. I felt like a horrible person who did not deserve to live. All the pills did was make me sick and made me feel even more like a loser. 

Last year at the age of 46 I finally accepted that what happened to me was not my fault. I was a 13 yr old virgin that was labeled a whore because a male (I refuse to call him a man) who was almost 20 sexually assaulted me. I never said no so I blamed myself for what happened. In all honesty I was frozen. All I could do was just lay there with my face turned toward the wall. I didn't deserve what happened to me nor did I deserve being labeled a whore. I was sexually assaulted. Its very freeing to finally pardon myself. I will never again blame myself for what happened or how I lived my life for a few years after. I was just a confused little girl who did not deserve what happened to her. 💔