When I was younger, my parents used to tell me to write a letter to the person I was upset with. They didn’t tell me to send it, and in fact they never did let me send it, but they would insist that I write the letter. The idea was that once I put my feelings and thoughts to paper I would find some healing or at least a way to move on. And the letter would be ripped up or tossed on the fire so that I would have the satisfaction of watching it get destroyed.
Now when I was first diagnosed with lupus it occurred to me at some level that I could or maybe should write a letter to lupus. Not that lupus would care, however it would still provide an outlet for things. I didn’t do it. I felt instead that I would be better served by taking that bundle of emotion and tying it into other aspects of my life. And that worked well when it came to sorting out eating healthier, exercise regimes and such.
To be honest throwing that energy into learning everything I could about the illness and getting lost in school too all helped me. But now, now I have time to consider things from a different place. A place that reminds me that I have lost many things, and it’s okay to be angry about that. It’s okay to rage about that anger, it’s part of the grief process. And it’s okay to grieve for who I used to be. So I have taken that idea and decided to write-up an obituary of sorts for some of my dreams and hopes. And at the same time I have taken that idea and also written a gratitude journal for all the things I’m grateful or appreciative of since lupus has come into my life. So maybe my parents may have been on to something. But I’m going to do it my way!