So… I’m trying to figure out the “it” that people are reacting to. My diagnosis… my situation… my life… This one is kind of tough. I’m sitting in the chilly (it was in the 40s Fahrenheit this morning) foggy morning … Continue reading
Now, judging by the title, it seems like this might be a little kvetching. It’s not. I am a firm believer that you can never have too many friends. I know I’m “that weird lady” and I gratefully accept the title, but I believe that we are all connected. We are all the same. Some have more, some have less, we all have struggles. We all cry.
I try desperately hard to not let people who are painfully mean (and by painfully, it can get to where their negative energy can physically hurt if you stress too much on it… it’s the stress, not them particularly I think… but hurt is hurt). And I let them anyway. Sometimes it is unavoidable… you have to deal with them. Sometimes I get caught in my Pollyanna ideals and try to help… to change… and it doesn’t work… but I try. It’s also why I don’t “hang out” in many of the RA groups on Facebook. Debbie Downer isn’t me and it isn’t something I deal well with. Yes it hurts… BELIEVE me I know it hurts. But… there are people who find their joy in DWELLING in the hurt… expounding and bitching endlessly about the hurt… I hurt. Some days I hurt an 86. And The sun is going to come up and I have to get through today. I can smile (okay, it LOOKS like a smile if you grit your teeth the right way) or I can bitch. Bitching pisses everyone off and adds to the stress. Stress sucks.
Too often I find out that my friends for other reasons (people I’ve worked with… friends for other reason on Facebook… complete strangers) are struggling with trying to get a diagnosis for the pain… or have gotten the diagnosis for the pain and are struggling with the new reality. It weighs on my heart that so many people are finding out that they are now dealing with this reality.
It’s funny. The day I found out about my diagnosis I sat at my desk at work and cried and cried and cried. I thought of the hands… the ones I remember from my childhood… the ones that terrified me then and still do now.
Don’t google them and look. It’s not good. It’s scary. I know it is reality still. I’ve seen them when I’m out and about. But it doesn’t help to dwell.
I don’t want other people to sit at their desks and cry and cry and cry. I know they will. Even if you DESPERATELY want to know why you hurt like there is ground glass in your body and every movement grates it into the nerves… even if you NEED to know so you can start to fight back… still… hearing the words is like getting kicked in the knees.
I’m glad I went through my own steps of dealing with it so I can help. I can be the go to guy who has lived. Who has cried hot tears because some times you just have to push through the pain because you have to and that is the only reason you have. But I can listen. And I can be that shoulder, real or virtual, who understands…
Too many of my friends are hearing the same words I heard. And it sucks. And I hope that, maybe, I can help.