a life in lupus

if you want add in the tags where you're from and what kind of job it was! i've been thinking about this and i'm very curious

And

“Certain disabilities are so unbearable that it’s normal to wish you weren’t disabled”

About all the ways I hurt

You'd never hear from me

Another happy word

So I smile

So "I'm fine"

I say I'm doing well

But good relates to bad

You tell me that you care

But do you really still

When I'm never there?

I cancel plans

But I answer texts

I'm frozen dead and crying

I'm good how are you?

I'm lying

January turns to June

And fall is coming far too soon

But please believe me

I said, "That's just not true. Sometimes what doesn't kill you leaves you brittle and injured or traumatized."

He stopped and thought about that for a while. He came back later, and said, "It's like wood glue."

He pointed to my bookshelf, which he helped me salvage a while ago. He said, "Do you remember how I explained that, once we used the wood glue on them, the shelves would actually be stronger than they were before they broke?"

I did.

"But before we used the wood glue, those shelves were broken. They couldn't hold up shit. If you had put books on them, they would have collapsed. And that wood glue had to set awhile. If we put anything on them too early, they would have collapsed just the same as if we'd never fixed them at all. You've got to give these things time to set."

It sounded like a pretty good metaphor to me, but one thing I did pick up on was that whatever broke those shelves, that's not the thing that made them stronger. That just broke them. It was being fixed that made them stronger. It was the glue.