bipolar · depression · Life · mental health · Sjogren's Syndrome · Thoughts


I feel so new with this physical illness. You can’t see pain with the naked eye, but you can see it’s effects. Kinda like mental illness. So actually, I should be able to get an understanding on how to live with this shit. Maybe.

With Sjogren’s, like BiPolar, you really never know when an episode is gonna hit, but you can kinda see or know the signs it’s coming.

I’ve got BiPolar’s signals down, for me. I can tell when certain behaviors are leading up to an upswing or a downward spiral. And I will try to head it off with meds or self talk etc. Using my skill set here.

With Sjogren’s, it’s all so new. I have a journal of daily activities. I know if I do too much, I will pay for it later or the next day. But, HOW MUCH IS TOO MUCH ?

I slowly push the limits, but I fear a flare up, so I just do nothing. I hate the pain all over my body. My knees, my back, my hips. I’m sore all over and even laying down hurts.

So I take it easy.

Which leaves me without a life; I fear pain, depression, people, myself, loneliness, love. So many things, it’s not like a phobia, but more like a general fear of everything. Without being specific, maybe its paranoia, but I don’t think so. I don’t think anything is out to get me, so maybe it’s anxiety.

I’m just so tired of illness. No matter what the brand. I’ve been sick with something ever since I was born. Wearing leg braces as a toddler, constant bouts with tonsillitis. Depression.

I see myself dying alone and it scares me. The people I love are either growing up or getting older and as the youngest child, I fear being left behind. Sick and alone. No one knowing I’m dead until the stench in my apartment reaches the street. As the unpaid bills pile up in the mailbox and the neighbors begin to ‘wonder’.

Over 20 years of fighting BiPolar has left me tired and alone. I avoided relationships because I didn’t trust my judgement and I felt I would attract someone who would abuse me. The one time I tried, this came true. Not physical abuse, although there were time it came close, but verbal, emotional and mental abuse.

So, proving myself right. I stayed alone. Isolated and trying to get some sanity back.

When I finally got on an even keel, the bottom dropped out again with the thyroid and the Sjogren’s.

Something new to experience. I’m too old for this.

I don’t know if I have the fight of a 20 year old to battle and come out, O.K. anymore.

But something inside of me, keeps me moving forwards. Although I don’t know why or what it is I’m moving towards.


This is not fun

I wonder what to do with my life or what my life will become sometimes. I envision myself older, grayer and alone. Moving slower, doing small things and being tired and resting all the time.

You see and hear about seniors ‘out there’ in the world living exciting lives and being ACTIVE.

But it’s hard to be active when you are so damned confused all the time. When you hurt every day, and you are going thru a process of getting your body to a state of ‘normalcy’.

Sjogren’s Syndrome is a bitch with no name. You mention it and nobody knows what you’re talking about. If you say arthritis, they get it. But Sjogren’s. NOPE. It’s an autoimmune disease which can effect your organs and is more than just dry mouth and eyes.

For me, its constant joint pain, in my hips and swelling knees and stiff knees like boards. Some mornings I’m fucking walking like Frankenstein. Living off of pain killers and Tylenol is not what I thought getting older was all about.

I’m glad I’m still here. The BiPolar hasn’t done me in, I’ve found the right meds for the moment and I say moment because they tend to quit on me.

Now I have the Sjogren’s and the lack of a thyroid to deal with and its all becoming so complicated, with the brain fog (forgetfulness and losing your train of thought or what you were going to say next). It’s embarrassing and frustrating.

I’m afraid I’ll never be able to read my poetry out loud again, because my vocal chords still hurt. And I have to rest them, I still haven’t gotten my old voice back. I go to speak and sound like a toad.

This is not growing old gracefully. And I’m not even 50 yet.

This is not fun.