About Me~, Poetry

No “Write” or Wrong Way~

I’ve always loved to write. As far back as I can remember words have held a certain magic for me. My mother tells me I learned to read and write when I was only 3 years old. Of course the fact that I had an older sister who loved to play school , and I was her only sometimes (unwilling!) student might have come into play with that! But since finding out that have lupus almost 15 years ago, writing has taken on a whole new meaning for me. Lupus is a terrible disease. It takes over every aspect of my life, and for a long time I didn’t know how to deal with it. I was very young when it started affecting me, (14) , and they had no answers, as to what might be wrong with me. I went from doctor to doctor for about 5 years before I got a diagnosis at age 19. I actually don’t count those five years in the 15 , although I guess I should! But when I got diagnosed the whole world spun out of control. See the thing was , being diagnosed happened in the middle of the day, while having the ultrasound of my son at 32 weeks. Something was going on with his heart, his heart rate was plummeting. Turns out, my body was trying to kill him. Lupus does that. So, they had to rush to get him out of my body. Bam. I was a mom. 8 weeks before I was supposed to be. Bam. Your baby has this heart condition that’s permanent. And YOUR body did this to him. BAM. HE MAY DIE. Double whammy . Triple whammy. Your body goes into some kind of terrible spiral of hormone induced hell of a lupus flare . I was 19 years old. So this was my introduction to being diagnosed to lupus. Trying to survive the very start of it. Almost being relieved that I Hadn’t been crazy for all those 5 years my body had been so sick before. Guilt that I had made my baby sick. FEAR. Mind-numbing, body-wrenching fear. Life is never going to be normal again. So what does all this have to do with writing? Well, when you have no one in your life around you who has EVER experienced anything remotely close to that, who do you talk to? What do you do with all that bottled up, pent up , crazed , what IS THIS STUFF I’m feeling?!? You write. And write. Until all the fear, and horror, and pain, is left bleeding on the page. Even if no one else ever sees it, it has left it’s stains on the paper instead of on your life, and hurts maybe, just maybe a tiny bit less. So if you have lupus, or depression, or arthritis, or just don’t know what to do with your thoughts sometimes, write. Because there is no “write” or wrong way, to do it. Write, until they no longer fill your mind. Fill the page with all that burns, and then let it go.
P.S. Here is a poem I wrote recently in one of those burning moments. Hope you like it.BeFunky_skeleton.jpg


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