Fact: I have a disease. An irrversible disease. A disease with no cure.
Everyone keeps telling me "well at least you know what's wrong now. That's good." Ya. Its awesome. I'm fucking thrilled...
I will never be the same. I'll no longer be the same, old Danielle. No more beach days, soaking up the sun and "comparing" tans with my girlfriends in competition. No more days of running around outside with Reese. I won't be able to be the mom I've tried so hard to be...I can't take away this feeling. The fact that sometimes I won't be able to stay up late with my husband and watch movies, because I'm literally beyond exhaustion. Not to mention all these drugs have completely robbed my libido. The fact that I can't be the "reliable" one anymore. Some days I just can't get out of bed...
So ya...I'm so glad I've been labelled with Lupus...its such a relief.
I love that some days I'm so weak that I can't even stand to wash my dishes. Some days I'm in so much pain I can't even bend over my washing machine to do laundry. Or the fact that I suffer through the day at work because I have to. I have no appetite, I have no energy...
The fact that I feel robbed because I may not be able to give Reese a brother or sister because my body will kill it...kills a part of me...
That's how I'd some this feeling up...I've been robbed...
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