Today was the long-awaited rheumatology appointment. To back up a little bit, a few months ago I went to have my hormones checked at the OBGYN and ended up here after a positive ANA, despite have little to no physical symptoms of the disease.

After a brief talk, the doctor handed me a lupus diagnosis with a shrug and a sure-fire glance that told me I ought to get a second opinion.

Considering I have a mental health record longer than your spoiled brat's Christmas list, I can't help but wonder if lupus presents with psychiatric problems often. The doctor seemed as confused as me.

I had a severe psychotic episode when I was 18, again when I was 19, and was haphazardly diagnosed with bipolar in 2010. Depression, mania and psychosis can be seen in cases of neuropsychiatric lupus but, from what I understand, there are almost no definitive tests to show that through a brain scan. C'mon modern medicine, get with the program!

I had come to the conclusion that my mental health problems stemmed from a harsh background, but this makes me question everything.

The doctor ordered more blood work today and I will continue to try to cut recreational drugs out of my life, if only to get a clear picture of my health. At least now I have a great reason to quit. The doctor also prescribed Lexapro 25mg for the depression, but I am hesitant to start any prescription pill... more to come.

Today was hard... harder than I care to admit to anyone other than the internet.

But... A good friend picked up the phone and I ate a great dinner...

with unimaginable pain,
I still have a lot to be grateful for.

Tonight I'll count my blessings...

goodnight

I want to get so high that I don't feel a %^&$*&^ thing.

I have dreams, aspirations, goals, potential

and here I squander it

crave one last hit, one more "Ahhh..."

one more, I don't give a damn

one more time, for the junkies, the pill poppers, the desolate losers who can't give it up

I am you

your dead dreams, your lost goals, the arrow that never made it to its target

I know your pain

your darkness, your shame

it's mine, too.

I don't want to do it alone anymore.
I don't want to seem overly dramatic, but I don't know who or where to turn anymore.

I wish it were easier to get mental health help.

I don't want to call a hotline number or listen to my parents bitch about a $5000 hospital bill, but I am tired of dealing with this crap alone...

I can't believe I am 24 years old and still dealing with this, I wish it would just end

I smoked weed for almost ten years. It helped me to escape from the torment inside my head. At first, it was something to do with friends. We would smoke late at night and stuff our faces with food and watch funny shows. I remember laughing so hard I nearly peed while we smoked in the creek behind our house.


Weed hasn't made me laugh like that in a long time.

One time when I was a kid, my dad walked into my sister's and my room while my mom was beating the $#%^ out of us. I thought it was over. He was finally there to see it. She was done for, or so I thought.


No, he was high. And his drunk, stoned ass stumbled out of the room and turned his back on us.