Perfectly Wilde

Oh, wait... We’re talking presidents?

Let me introduce you to the 32nd.

Franklin D Roosevelt,

He was the man with a verbal black belt

You’ll never see him put fear on a shelf

There’s nothing to fear but fear its self

He taught us to fight for our God given liberties.

Greatness; it’s written in ALL of his stores.

Only a fool let’s his arguments get heated

Just once, I want to wake up one morning and not be in pain or be scared that the next thing I eat is going to make me nauseated. I don’t want to live in fear of debt collectors or collection calls from my doctors offices. I want to go out and not have to plan ahead for inevitable flares and bouts of nausea. I want to show up to work put together and look the part of a good Admin. I want to be able to sleep for more than two hours at a time. I just want... peace. Peace of mind. Financial stability. Hope for the future.

I’ll never be healthy. I’ll never be the person I used to be. That’s just not possible. Sometimes, I can pretend though. Sometimes I can get all dressed up, do my hair and makeup and play the part of the giggly blonde geek in the back. But not very often. It’s too exhausting pretending to be healthy. I have to rest after taking a damn shower. Sometimes I can’t even get out of the bath by myself.

I’d like to be able to say that in the fight against my body, I am winning. But right now I’ve been beaten within an inch of my life. I don’t see an end to the pain. I don’t see an end to the misery or the torment that my body puts me through or the judgmental stares I get from other people. I constantly feel like a burden—the awful reality that no one “needs” me lingers above my every move. They may want me around. But if I were to disappear, they’d miss me for a short while and then they’d move on. I’ve felt pretty much worthless my entire life. I think I’ve only had one person tell me that I could be anything I wanted—within reason. And some how becoming the first female president was more plausible than me becoming the next Hannah Montana (really Dad?). But even with all of his support—the world kept shitting on me and everyone else kept telling me it was my fault. If I’d had done it “this way” it would have worked out. If I hadn’t of moved away it would have been better. If I had “this thing” then I wouldn’t have to worry.

Excuse me for trying to be my own person. Excuse me for trying to be successful so that my poor (literally not figuratively) parents don’t have to worry about me anymore.

In Highschool I was bullied. I was told I was ugly. That I was worthless. That no one loved me. And five years later... that still stings. If you tell someone they’re something long enough... then they’ll start to believe it. That is scientific fact. It’s called the Labeling Theory. Go google that, Falicia. Even though I know this stuff to be false....it lingers in the back of my head. “Nothing you do is right.” “Your a screw up.” “You weren’t good enough”.

I wasn’t good enough to be a State FFA officer. I wasn’t good enough to be a College cheerleader for more than a few semesters. I wasn’t good enough for the Federal Scholarships/internships I applied for. Now....I’m not even good enough to make enough money to support myself. The list goes on and on.

Do you know how deep that hurts?

My parents struggled their whole lives. They’re still struggling. They’ve worked and worked and worked. Every day for their entire life and they still barely get by. Is that my fate? Is that my curse? Was being diagnosed with an incurable disease not enough? Am I that worthless to the world that I don’t deserve some help? Some relief? Has God abandoned me? Is he punishing me?

All of these thoughts have been swirling around in my head for years. And even with all the change I’ve forced upon myself. I moved. Got a better job. Fell in love. Yet.... all of it seems for naught. All of this effort. All of this heartache. All of this pain—I endured it for nothing. Only to be told that this is my reality.

How can I bring this into a relationship? How can I create a family like this? How can I condemn someone else to watch me suffer and wither away, knowing they can’t do a single thing to stop it? That is even more cruel than my own sentence of pain and torture by my own body for eternity. That isn’t fair. To them. Or to me. Or to anyone.

How can I ask for a raise—to better support myself if I can barely perform the tasks asked of me? I’m not worth it. I’m obviously not worth helping. But I promised myself that I wouldn’t give up. So how am I supposed to continue knowing that there is no relief for the foreseeable future?

So, I need to say something. And I need one of you to tell me if what I say (or what I’m feeling) is normal.

Thanksgiving was yesterday. And for the past week I’ve been freaking out because mine and Jetts families combined for dinner. And despite what everyone else says, I feel as if I’ve inconvenienced all of them. Originally, our thanksgiving was just supposed to be myself, Jett, his roommate…

Kats are Clumsy Too!

As someone who is fairly clumsy… I’ve never fallen down the stairs so bad I’ve hurt myself. Until yesterday. And before you start worrying and fill my twitter and Instagram DM’s with frantic and angry messages about being more careful–I’m fine. Seriously, I’m a bit sore, and everything hurts but not more than usual. It feels more like a bad flare (we talked about those a few weeks ago) than an…

What a Flare is Like for Me

This has been a sad week for me personally, and for the Lupus community. Not only did we loose a Lupus Warrior this week, I found out a couple of people I know are being tested for Lupus. Also a small family member isn’t doing to well. But there have been some happy things! Today is my grandma’s birthday, and we also got a new addition to the family a few days ago. I am a little sad that I don’t…

I have this rule where I don’t allow myself to post things when I’m emotionally compromised. I do allow myself to write the posts however, but I always leave them in my drafts queue until I have a clear mind. Anxiety is no joke. When I write while holding back tears, I can’t even spell properly! It’s awful, and no one wants to listen to the emotional rants of a pain riddled spoonie blubbering…

9-5 Lifestyle for a Chronic Illness Fighter

I can’t pretend to be all knowing on this front. I myself have done SO much research for years because I feared this lifestyle. Coming from a small town, I was led to believe the 9-5 life style is the only way to survive, especially for Millennial’s. But as a Millennial, I know that’s not true–there are thousands of way one can make a living that don’t involve a 9-5 anything.

There’s the…

My Methotrexate Experience (So Far)

I mentioned a few weeks ago that I was starting Methotrexate. I was super anxious about it, having nightmares, I even put it off for a week.

But, Jett and Anita are THE BEST. Anita would have preferred I stay home during my doses, but she can’t always be there to baby sit me, so I’ve been taking it when I stay with Jett on the weekends. This weekend, however, I have a friend over and some family…

New This, and New That…and Sam Old THIS!

So….. A lot has happened since I last posted.

I got a new job. Started a new medicine (the same one that has been giving me nightmares), and I possibly just made a deal to make children’s costumes for a party business. On the side of course.. but still, pretty exciting.

I’ll start with my new job.

I work at a software company. At the moment, I’m an office aid but I have expressed interest in…

Nightmares aren’t just for Kids

Does anyone else have horrible nightmares ?? Not just when you’re stressed, but when you’re anticipating a date or event, even a completely normal outing and the night before you have the worst nightmare about a booth exploding and your entire life gets turned upside down?

I’ve always been an active dreamer. Sometimes my dreams are so real I can’t tell the difference between a dream or a memory.…

For a few days last week I really felt like things were on the up and up. Then one thing—ONE THING—destroyed all my happy feelings. It was an insurance thing and for a small bit of time, I thought I wouldn’t be able to afford treatment and not getting treatment not only is painful,…

So Apollo, my computer ( and yes I named my computer), got the BSOD today. I frantically get into gear and get to work. Looking at the dump files, cleaning up his C drive, etc. Well my BF is a computer genius and I know things but he KNOWS things. So I casually tell him that I’m sad bc Apollo is sick and maybe he can give me some helpful advice because I HATE WINDOWS 10!

Instead, Jett starts making fun of me because I refuse to rebuild Apollo. Upgrading him is one thing, a total rebuild? No. I just can’t. Apollo 2.0 just doesn’t have the same ring to it.

Jett: So then just name him after Apollo‘s offspring.

Me: *brain goes into overdrive* You mean Will Solace? If I do that can I name you’re computer Nico so our computers can date too!?

Jett: LOL SURE.

Me: K thanks for enabling my nerdiness! 😘