I have no idea what I'm doing

This is me trying to be an adult. I don't have all the answers but I'm constantly searching. I'm in love with a girl who makes me swoon. I have a stupid chronic illness, Lupus, that sometimes kicks my ass. But I'm kicking it right back.

Don’t hang out with people who don’t love you. Don’t try to impress people who aren’t worth it. Don’t try to win people over who aren’t worth it. Focus on yourself, and focus on the people who are really awesome and who love you. Don’t hang out with people who make you feel like shit. Don’t spend your energy on them. There is so much pressure to be part of the right thing: well, you should create the right thing. If you don’t see it, create it. If you don’t see what you want, be the change you want to see.

—Beth Ditto (via cultivate-solitude)

Yes. The older I get, the more this makes sense. In your 20’s it’s all about finding yourself and fitting in. I could care less what people think about me as long as I’m doing the right thing and being a good person.

(Source: theonewithnomakeupon, via mudandflame)

fluxandpause:

Pros of being gay: both you and your wife would get into the lifeboats on the titanic.

(via avocadosalad)

illness-to-wellness:

Did you know that invisible disabilities make up 96% of all disabilities? I certainly didn’t until I met someone my own age with rheumatoid arthritis. I’m glad to have met some absolutely amazing people who live with challenges that the eye cannot see because symptoms of fibromyalgia syndrome eventually became too big to ignore in my own body. I’m glad to know that I have so many others with invisible disabilities who understand me. I’m also glad to know that there are people who don’t understand, even though it can lead to hurt feelings and awkward moments, because I would never wish the pain I experience on anyone else. Regardless of whether or not you can empathize with my pain and my struggle, I deserve respect. I have the right to speak my story to people I trust and I also have the right to remain silent with people I don’t know. My disability is invisible, not imaginary. 
"The bottom line is that everyone with a disability is different, with varying challenges and needs, as well as abilities and attributes. Thus, we all should learn to listen with our ears, instead of judging with our eyes.
Sincerely,
The Invisible Disabilities Association”

illness-to-wellness:

Did you know that invisible disabilities make up 96% of all disabilities? I certainly didn’t until I met someone my own age with rheumatoid arthritis. I’m glad to have met some absolutely amazing people who live with challenges that the eye cannot see because symptoms of fibromyalgia syndrome eventually became too big to ignore in my own body. I’m glad to know that I have so many others with invisible disabilities who understand me. I’m also glad to know that there are people who don’t understand, even though it can lead to hurt feelings and awkward moments, because I would never wish the pain I experience on anyone else. Regardless of whether or not you can empathize with my pain and my struggle, I deserve respect. I have the right to speak my story to people I trust and I also have the right to remain silent with people I don’t know. My disability is invisible, not imaginary. 

"The bottom line is that everyone with a disability is different, with varying challenges and needs, as well as abilities and attributes. Thus, we all should learn to listen with our ears, instead of judging with our eyes.

Sincerely,

The Invisible Disabilities Association

(via mudandflame)

cry it out

Sometimes you just have to cry it out.  The hard part is finding the time.  Because when I get going, I really get into it.  This usually happens in the car, but today it’s in my bed.

I went to a lupus support group with my girlfriend last night(she’s the best), and it felt so good to see people like me.  I haven’t felt so relieved in months.  To know other people go through the same things as me makes me feel so much better.  But the hard part about it, is that I think I’m really finally accepting that I have Lupus.  These problems are real, and I’m going to deal with them for the rest of my life, and that’s a hard big pill to swallow.

It’s my new reality, and it will take a lot of adjusting, but I think I’m doing okay.  It just really sucks.  I just want to be like everyone else and do whatever I want, but that’s not my reality anymore and I have to face it.  I have to let my friends know that after I work a really busy shift, and I know we had plans, but that I literally can’t walk and need to heat my knees for the night instead.  I feel bad, and I miss my friends.  I miss my old life, where I was just living and having fun and working towards finishing my degree and starting a career.  

Maybe this is maturity, maybe it’s the lupus, maybe it’s the fact that I’m in a stable, loving relationship.  Everything is stable right now.  While that feels amazing, I just wonder what comes next and I’m scared.

I’m trying to plan my life after I graduate this summer.  I so badly want to teach, I just don’t know how realistic it is.  I want to work with people with mental illness too, which seems more realistic.  I just don’t know, and it gives me extreme anxiety.  When you’re in your 20’s, you can get away with searching yourself.  I feel like I never got a chance to get to know myself, to do what I wanted to do, to be a real teen.  I just turned 30, but I feel about 23.  

Sometimes my pain gets so bad that it’s all I think about.  I don’t want to take a pain pill because I’m terrified of getting addicted.  But being in pain effects my mood I think.  I overcompensate a lot.  I’m myself, but I don’t want anyone to know how much pain i’m in on a daily basis.  I don’t know who to tell and I don’t know what to do about it.  

I really just don’t know.  But maybe that’s okay.  I have today.  I have strength to get through today.  Tomorrow is tomorrow and we’ll just have to wait to see how it goes.  Maybe I should stop obsessing about the future and focus on now….like that stack of papers I should be filling out, but I’m writing this instead.

In good news I get to have a handicap sign for my car!  Rockstar parking all the time.  But really, sometimes I hurt so bad that I can’t walk really far, so it’s going to help.  I’m thankful for that.

Just writing this makes me feel better, but it’s the reality that is still here.  The only thing I can do is deal with it.  It could be worse.  It can ALWAYS be worse.  I should be more thankful for what I have.