Day Two- Whose to blame?

My pressure was 129/79 this morning. Pretty good I guess. I exercised for 15 minutes this morning. That's pretty good!!! I juiced some carrots and honeydew. Very filling I'll eat some cereal in a little while. Yesterday, I did okay; I had cantaloupe juice, cereal, and tuna salad. But then I had potato chips, cake, Kentucky Fried chicken and I finished up my candy. It's a work in progress. I went to bed about 11 o'clock last night and was up at 5 am and out the bed at 6:30. It's 10:35 am and I am tired as hell.




I want to write how I'm feeling, to release some of the things no one is interested in. LOL so why am I writing this blog? So I can express my feelings, my fears, anger and the sadness that has haunted me my whole life through. I don't care if nobody reads it, but I hope someone will and I get a little attention. Because I am mad!!



Mad that I'm sick at 50 years old, mad that at most I may only live for ten more years. I pray I live longer. That I get to see my grandchildren become grown, to see the hope of my immediate family become a realization.



I want to blame someone. But who God? God gave me freedom of choice and mom taught me wrong from right. I made the choices in my life that brought me to this point. I was smoking cigarettes at 8, having sex at 11, drinking and smoking reefer at 12 and experimenting with all kinds of drugs by the time I was 14. I didn't go to school regularly and when I did I only did enough to pass. I stole money from my family, my jobs. I fucked the 3 kids I had all before I was 23 and all with different fathers. So who's to blame for my fate? Me? Yes there is no one else. Had I not gotten sick I would still be drinking and drugging and having irresponsible sex. But I would have been able to do things with my grandchildren.



I did bad things but I think I was still a good person over all. I wasn't mean and heartless, I cared about people, and I helped people. After a while I stop stealing, well maybe I had an incentive after my job cleared an investigation. I stopped stealing, I became honest. I would give back the extra change cashiers would mistakenly give me; I would pick up money drop and give it to person. But I guess it wasn't enough.



I know I should be positive. I know there is this thing called hope. But I don’t know how to think positive and I don’t know how to hope. I pray and I know God knows what’s in my heart. But I have no answers. There is no one I can talk to, I was seeing a therapist and all she was doing was listening to see what drug may work and when I stopped taking the drug she just listen to find out if I should take the drugs again. I know it’s a job for her, but I need is someone to hear me. I went to group therapy and that was okay but with 8 up to about 15 people in a group that lasts for an hour and a half, what kind of help can I get there. Oh I should tell you that the Cymbalta made me happy, I was so happy I didn’t know how to handle it so I stopped taking it.



So this is my new therapy, a new project to take up my time. To keep me busy. I hope I don’t stay alone on this journey, quest to battle lupus and all that it brings with it to wage war against my body, mind and soul.