Why I've Been Apologizing Since My Diagnosis


I have never said “sorry” more than after being diagnosed. I apologize for my emotions, my pain, the way I process things, my hurt. When I feel myself slipping into a flare or even a bout with depression, sometimes all I can say is that I am sorry that I feel powerless to stop it. I can eat all the vegetables, meditate into unconsciousness, stretch until I feel like a rubber band. Nothing stops it from barreling toward me, so much so I can feel the breeze on my cheeks like the one from an oncoming train.

For me, a flare of any kind also feels like I am staring at headlights coming at me, but I’m lethargic and too slow and weak to move. So I wait, like people listening for a tornado siren – hoping I can pull enough of my strength together to win this battle and the next. I’ll battle as many as I have to win, until there are no more battles left. But lately, all I hear are the cries for battle.

The truth is it’s really hard not to want to give up. I want to understand what is happening to me, but all it really explains is my limitations – not my strengths. That can get in your head, settle deep in your heart as doubt, and when you search for strengths – all you may find is weakness, tears, and sometimes the only things left are apologies.

Lately, all I have is doubt. I know it’s the pain, the need to have a day I can enjoy without paying for it physically for two days afterwards. I know it’s all the questions I have that have no answers, because none exist. I know what makes me sad, and the problem is it’s something that will always exist in my life. I can’t say there will be a time when it won’t, because I don’t know that. All I know is now, and now hurts a whole lot.

My problems won’t go away, no matter how hard I pray or how positive I am – and it seems they won’t even go away no matter how much medicine I take. Maybe there are times when this frustrates me, but I spend more time struggling with this truth than most others. I hear a lot of, “It will be OK,” when at times I know it won’t.  There are things about me that the lupus has already taken, and although I hold on to my will, its diminished capacity can be blamed on the constant need to fight and push through. I have lost a lot of faith, a lot of time, a lot of tears – and a lot of things that I am not sure I can really put into words.

So a lot of the times when I say “sorry,” it’s for me. It’s because I know what this does to the people around me – my family and friends, people I interact with…because I know what it does to me.

Getty Image by Wavebreakmedia


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