Taking Things For Granted

It's amazing how many things we all take for granted. For instance, being able to raise your arm without worrying about what people might think. Or maybe getting a shower on your own. Perhaps even standing, walking, or laying down.

You see, I have to deal with those things on a daily basis thanks to Hidradenitis Suppurativa. Everyday, I'm in pain and there's no end in sight. With there being no cure, I don't have high hopes. I can't raise my arms past my shoulder some days and merely sitting on the couch brings me discomfort. I have to have my mom help me get showers because I can't wash my hair thanks to my arms. I'm even embarrassed to go out in public, afraid of what people might think.

It's happened before you know. My co-workers and friends talked about me behind my back when they thought I couldn't hear. I wish they would've just come to me instead of gossiping. But that's people for you.

And the Point Is...?

What's the point in fighting a battle you're sure to lose? That's how I feel right now. The HS just keeps attacking my body like there's no tomorrow and I can't do anything to stop it. I'm already taking antibiotics and getting a shower everyday, but it's not enough. What did I do to deserve this?

The Good and the Bad

I have good days and I have bad days. Today...is a bad day. The surgery I had on July 17th went really well. The surgeon was pleased. But it doesn't stop the sores from coming. For the past three days, my right arm has hurt like Hell. I couldn't figure out why until today. A new area has formed under there, pussing like mad and soiling a good shirt. It hurts and I just want it to go away. There's no cure for HS, no hope. They don't know what causes it. I also have MRSA. It's so hard not being able to really hug people. I want my mom to hug me and let me cry. Just a good, old-fashioned cry. This is just as hard on her as it is on me. They all say I'm strong, but I'm not. Not really. This is breaking me slowly, from the inside out.

I have no friends other than the ones I have online. I can't leave my house for long periods of time because it kills me. I only leave when I have a doctor appointment. I just want to curl up in bed, sheets and blankets covering me, and lay there forever. Everything hurts and nothing can make it better.

Too Young...

When I was about seven or eight years old, my grandparents took me on vacation to a resort. I don't remember the name or what state it was in, but I remember the playground and playing on it almost everyday I was there with another girl. We became friends. One day, we were playing on the playground. Pirates, I believe. The girl's older brother was playing with us. I think he was in his teens. Anyway, we were the pirates and he was trying to catch us, it was a game. A fun game. But you know how the saying goes. "Everything's fun and games until somebody gets hurt." I was distracted by the fun we were having, shouting orders like a captain. "Throw things at him! Throw rocks!" I didn't know better. Next thing I know, my friend had thrown a rock at her brother, hitting him in the head. He started bleeding and the girl, my friend, screamed at me, saying it was my fault her brother was hurt because I told her to throw rocks at him.

I was hurting, but on the inside. They went back to their room so the brother could get cleaned up. Me? I remained at the playground, patiently and loyally waiting for my friend to come back out so we could play some more. Minutes passed and still I waited, idly playing by myself to pass the time. Finally, the door to their room opened (it was visible from the playground, right across the street actually), but, instead of my friend, I saw her brother. "Sorry, but my sister can't come back outside to play with you. Bye."

I don't know if I really understood what had happened that day. I had lost my friend because of a stupid game turned deadly. I know it was my own fault for saying something so stupid. I trudged back to my room. Later that week, when we were getting ready to leave to go home, we passed the playground driving out. The girl was there, playing with other kids. I eagerly rolled down my window, shouted her name, and waved. I was saying good bye. She looked up, saw me...and just continued playing.

Friends

Aren't friends supposed to have your back, not stab you in it? Aren't they supposed to be there for you, not desert you? Well some friend she turned out to be. She should've been happy that I was happy, not blown me off and then said to never speak to her again. I don't understand what's wrong with people nowadays. Oh and then I find out she's lied to me. That's what hurts the most, but that's okay. It'll come back to bite her and then she won't have any friends to turn to because they'll all be gone and done with her.