What do you want others to know about lupus?
Lupus does not discriminate. So many suffer in silence, afraid of what the future might hold, yet battling each new day.
Why is lupus a cruel mystery to you?
This is a day with my cruel mystery. I wake up in the morning and I have a hangover; though I've not had a drop of alcohol the day before. Hammers are tapping against my skull, my limbs are encased in lead, my brain is thick with cobwebs; didn't I just lie down? I take a breath in and a cheese-grater drags along my lungs, ah, they are inflamed again. I heave myself out of bed; it's like climbing out of wet cement. My joints are swollen, stiff & ache; I’m the tin man, I need oil. Pain is my constant companion; a friend I know I can actually rely on. This friend is steadily driving screws into my bones with a smile on her face. Tears will not bring relief, but I feel strongly that screaming will. There is a war raging inside my body; but I look just like you. I bare no scars or spots, I have all my hair, I remain a secret. I push myself to keep up with you; can't slow down or I may never move again. End of the day, 13 stairs then I'm home; might as well be 1,000. How will I get up, can someone carry me? No. I'd rather crawl anyway. I am Lupus, I have no cure; this is my forever. But I'm grateful; the battle for my organs has not yet begun.
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