Having lupus is a mental battle like no other. It’s hard to wake up in the morning and go “I can do this.” Most days I just kind of mumble it. Like it’s some sort of required recietment to appease the higher powers. And there are the times where I wonder: “what if I just left?” I sure wouldn’t have to deal with lupus anymore. Helk, I wouldn’t have to deal with anything anymore. The pain would be gone and I would be free.
Most days feel like I am alone on an island locked up in a little box with only a peep- hole for light. The island I see out of peephole is not the picturesque sandy white beaches and palm trees. This island looks like it’s an extension of Siberia. Bleak, dark, cold and a harsh environment. Extremely lonely and not a very positive view.
Nobody seems to understand… what it’s like… to live… with lupus. To have something so powerful and painful to be hidden inside, something that cannot be easily explained or understood. I can’t escape from it; it doesn’t go away or give me a vacation. Ever.
It frustrates me to watch people get depressed and take simple little things for granted. Even more to watch them take EVERYTHING in life for granted. Things that I will never again be able to take for granted, some activities I will never be able to do again. I wish my worries and concerns were the same as a healthy 17-year-old girl. Concerns like “I wonder if he likes me?” or “what color lipstick should I wear today?” Instead of “am I going to make it through my ½ day of school today?” and “how in the world am I supposed to hide these bruises so that people don’t think I’m abused?!?!”
Alas, “those thoughts” do not come from some simple little things. Sometimes I think it would be easier for the people around me if I just went away. They wouldn’t have to watch me suffer and I would no longer be around to bother them. No more emergency trips to the doctors because something went out of whack, no more drugs and no more “I don’t know what to do for you because there is nothing we can do for you. Just live with it.” Admittedly death sounds very appealing sometimes. Just letting it all go…
What has stopped me from going away then? I’m not going to give up. I want to prove everyone wrong (the ones that said I won’t make it or can’t do it.) I want to be here to see my grand children. To graduate from high school. To show the world that just because I am chronically ill doesn’t mean I can’t achieve my dreams. One day at a time I do just that. I work towards achieving my dreams.
My family would be devastated if I took my life. I cringe with the mental image of my sister finding me dead, blood all over the bathroom floor and me just lying there all pale. Then at the funeral how everyone would be sad and crying. How I would be talked about only under a hushed voice because I committed suicide and it’s an unforgivable sin. But death can still be appealing. Feeling liberation at last. However, succumbing to “those thoughts” wouldn’t do the rest of the world around me any good in the future.
I want to go out in style, not in desperation. Suicide no matter how it’s committed is not stylish. Not in my opinion anyways… I am going to die from extremely old age. Or if lupus, the silent killer wants to take me. He’ll have to drag me out kicking and screaming.