No matter how hard I try, there is no way to really explain what it is like to live with lupus. I can talk about how it affects me; I can use words to try and explain what something feels like. But I will never really be able to explain it fully.
It becomes near impossible to explain and describe lupus to my loved ones. At least it is if I don’t want to create cause or concern. So I gloss over the harder pieces, the painful pieces. I do the best I can to hide the stiffness and the pain.
Oh sure, those who know me best can see there is something wrong. I can’t prevent that. However, I can prevent them from seeing the worst of it, from describing it in darker terms.
You never want people to know that while you are doing something with them, your joints feel like they are on fire, filled with glass shards, and crumbling. All you really want to do is find a place to settle in and stop using your joints, but your loved one wants you to do something just a bit longer.
So you hide it and try to carry on because it’s bad enough that these people have extra worries about your health.