Secrets and Lies

Until I began this blog, only a handful of people knew I had MCTD. I’ve hidden my diagnosis from everyone; family, friends, you name it. It’s been my dirty little secret for months upon months. The handful of people that have known about my disease have never really gotten the full story of what’s been going on. I’ve hid its growing severity from my siblings and closest friends. Why? One word…pity. I don’t want it. I don’t need it. I don’t want the people closest to me to see me as weak and broken; I’ve never been that person. I’ve always been the strong one who doesn’t take shit from anyone and is going to do what it takes to achieve her goals. I don’t want that image of me to change, or god forbid, disappear.

“Sick” people are often viewed as weak and vulnerable and those are two adjectives that are not a part of my being. My husband obviously knows every aspect of my illness, but I even hide some of my bad days from him. I shouldn’t, but I do. With him, it’s the worrying that I try to prevent. The same with my parents I suppose. I’m used to be the one that does the worrying and care taking so to be on the opposite end of the spectrum is…I don’t even know the right word to describe it. Humiliating? Unacceptable? Shameful? All the above I guess…

What affects me the most are the days when my daughter will look at me and say, “Mommy’s sick” or when she kisses my arm, rubs it, and says “it’s okay mama, it’s okay”. As much as I try to hide the exhaustion and pain from her, somehow, she knows that I’m sick…that kills me. I have days where I contemplate the worst because I believe that my family deserves more than a sick mommy and wife.
…Today is one of those days…

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