It’s been a very long time since I’ve written anything. This isn’t because I’ve lost my love of writing, but more, I’ve lost my words. It’s extremely frustrating to have things to say, to share, and not have the words to actually do that.
Along with this disease destroying my body, it also destroys my mind, my words. My entire life, the only dream that has been consistent is my dream of being a writer. To have this disease systematically destroy that too is crushing to my very being. It takes my mind a long to to process anything lately and even longer to come up with simple words. To be a writer, you need to convey emotions, smells, people, with only words. To have those simple words escape me is something I can’t seem to get over.
Just writing two paragraphs, two simple paragraphs, has taken many long pauses and lots of frustration. Still, I can’t seem to find the real words I want to use, so I’m forced to use whatever simple words come through my mind’s foggy haze.
Writing used to be my escape from reality, it was fairly easy and fun. I was never one to sit and write rough drafts or notes. I’ve always just had words flow out. This is new, this lack of words, and it’s not all that fun. I could probably continue to write on my blog, but it’s not as joyful as it once was.
What I’ve learned in the last several years is this disease strips you of everything you knew from the inside out. I’m mearly a shell of the person that I used to be. I’ve always had a pretty positive outlook on things and even found positives to having this disease. That optimism has waned significantly in the past year. It’s been a struggle to keep my head above water with the everyday things, much less things I used to enjoy just for myself.
This may be just a pity party rant as I’m sitting at home while my family is at a World Series party without me. As with everything, I’m sure I will look back on this as a low point before getting back to my optimistic self. Right now though, I can’t really see my way out of this hazy fog that is my body and mind. I’m hoping that the fog will soon lift enough for me to see the light.
Does this post even make sense? Yea, I’m not so sure. But, that’s ok because nothing about my life with lupus has made sense, though I’m looking forward to the day when it does and I’m able to see the light through this haze.