I haven't felt like blogging lately. I haven't felt like doing much of anything. There haven't been many words. There hasn't been much of me to give - not to myself or others or a blog. I haven't felt well.
I've felt the opposite of well.
Today during my TMI session I confessed, "I am no longer feeling suicidal. So there's that." My TMI specialist put her head down and made a note to herself. I pretended she put a gold star in the "making progress on not feeling so overwhelmed and depressed by lupus and resulting illness and medications" field.
It is what it is.
Two days ago I watched a guy I used to date for a short time kiss the girl he's dating now. I realized that he let me go in the height of a lupus flare when I was the most vulnerable and the most sick. Sing it sistah- story of my life? I also realized that we probably weren't compatible anyway- but I wish it had ended or just not started. I don't like there to always be the feeling of being damaged and "the sick girl."
Meanwhile - during our TMI session we talked and there was an over arching discussion of feeling "too damaged." And how everyone - everyone everywhere will at some point feel "too damaged" to be loved. Hence our constant striving for perfection or fulfillment or our numbing (etc etc etc). And the question arose - what now? If you don't pick a lover or a relationship to fulfill you or heal you how do you heal? (You can't self-sooth if you are the damaged one - WHAT solves it? What heals it?)
If you are religious you will pick your god of choice. If you are freudian you will pick your oceanic oneness and coming together of unity and wholeness. And I do believe this is where living in consciousnes and making a choice every day to live with kindness and the realization that we are all always bringing that little tiny edge of damage to each other and no one can heal it. We collectively heal it and we also heal it with conscious awareness that it is what it is.
I'm no more damaged than any other. And no one will complete me or wound me any more than illness will kill me or invigorate me. I am already alive and I am already dying from the day I am born. Getting out of bed each day is a choice. The rest is the cards I'm dealt.
It doesn't mean I don't wish to be in a loving romantic relationship. It doesn't mean I don't wish for excellent health. It doesn't mean I don't wish for great finances and community and kindness and all the beauty and joy and ... you know - great job, great city, great life that many people wish to have and celebrate when they do and mourn when they lose. I am merely recognizing that the absence of any of these things (if they are not from me being a complete fuck up) are not my fault. They are just my process. They are just part of life. I am navigating it.
How am I healing today? How am I moving forward? Some days I get out of bed and the best I can do is already over. And other days the best is created as I move through the day.
I am willing to let go of the idea that I am too damaged to be loved and that no one will want a "sick girl." I realize that this is something I have held on to in order to hide from myself and protect myself from vulnerabilities. They are lies I have told myself and turned into a type of "truth"... but they are not THE truth. I am lovable. And I am wounded. And I am here walking the planet just like everyone else.