I am dropping my “Moderator” title in order to write this response. This is my view as a patient. I have lived with PsA for a very short time. My diagnosis came one year and two months ago, along with my first flare. I suspect I have had it much longer, as I had joint aches and pains since grade school. I didn’t realize that until I caught up with an old girlfriend and we were talking about my new diagnosis. I expected her to be surprised, but she wasn’t. Instead she said, “it rally makes sense.” I gave her a questioning look and she continued, “I remember that you were always in pain. It was mainly your hips and knees, but they always bothered you for as long as I can remember.” There I go, getting side tracked again. I guess those are important to share so that you will better understand my response.
I have NOT lived with my diagnosis for a long time. When I was first diagnosed, I was very angry. Life was not fair, what had I done to deserve this, why me, and why was I being punished were all questions that went through my mind in those initial months. I was so bitter. People did not “understand” me. They did not understand “my suffering”; they did not “understand my feelings”. I became very self centered. It was all about “me” and “my disease”.
Someone who is now very dear to me, had the guts to call me out; to tell me just how self centered I was; how I needed to get over myself if I wanted to live. Needless to say, I hated him. I lashed out at him. I wrote nasty emails to his colleagues in order to have him removed from his post. He DID NOT understand MY FEELINGS. I cried, I felt like a victim, I gnashed my teeth and stomped my feet at this horrible trick my body had decided to play on me. Still, I was unable to find someone to understand MY FEELINGS. There was no one; no one really “gets” my feelings.
So, I hid away. From my friends, my husband, my children, my mother; I hid from them all. I was so filled with anger and venom, and I let them poison me. I was so miserable, I wanted to die. My disease, my anger, and my venom were killing me. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t bathe, I couldn’t work. I had given in and given up. No one really “got” me. This thinking was the poison that was killing me.
I don’t remember what the catalyst was. I don’t really think there was one. It was just on my list of things to do. A list issued to me by my Rheumatologist; it included physical therapy, pain journal, function journal, and counseling. I left he counseling for last, because I knew I was FINE. I was certain that the therapist would understand my feelings. He did not.
Slowly, he confronted me. He made me examine each of the feelings I had. I had a lot of them, and none were positive or healthy. They were poison. They were harming me. I did not need others to understand my feelings…I needed to understand them. I needed to grow up. I needed to realize that I am not owed ANYTHING by this world. It was time to find my own strength, let go of anger, let go of my venom, and stop seeking validation for the toxic feelings that I was carrying; it was time to climb down from my cross.
It was a slow journey, and a long one. I did manage to find my own strength. I began to live again. I started to take better care of myself. I went back to work. I realized that I was letting my disease and my TOXIC FEELINGS run my life. More aptly, they were ruining my life.
Why did I tell this really long story? I’m sure every one is wondering. Because, I see the same anger and venom in your posts, and in your responses. You do realize that you asked for other people’s feelings in your OP, Candi? Then when people gave them, you completely negated all of their posts and their feelings. They weren’t good enough, not deep enough. No one understands YOUR feelings? How dare you blow off what others are feeling? You do not know what things may help them get by, do you? This disease is hard enough! I come to this site for support and encouragement; I do not come here to have my feelings insulted by other members. I do not come here to see someone negating the feelings of my friends. Realize it or not, but you are the “victim” here. Until you are able to let the toxic feelings go, no one will ever “get” you.