|Sand Beach, Acadia Park|
|Erin and Brenna, pre-puke|
I pretended to be Cali Kelly and hiked to the top of Bald Rock Mountain, where the Atlantic lays before you in panoramic views. Views that make you stop and say "Oh, shit."
I jumped into the 50 degree ocean at Sand Beach in Acadia National Park. I used my body as it was meant to be used; hiking, running, jumping and swimming. I felt relaxed and down to earth. We existed in a true vacation mode; our alarms were set, but only for more vacation time.
|Bald Rock Mountain, Maine|
And it pisses me off.
I hate my body for doing this. For fucking up any plans I had to be happy and carefree and young.
I hate that I have tried, many times, to get over the fact that my body is trying to kill itself from the inside-out. I even hate that that's the definition I have to give to people who wonder what lupus is. "Oh, lupus? It's just my body trying to commit suicide! Ha ha! Insert funny joke here!"
I hate that there is no way to live both ways; there is no way to feel the pain and not feel it too.
I hate that every flare reminds me that I must keep faith in myself, that I must believe in something that will end my pain quickly. I hate that I have found that the Something I believe in is only myself, and my ability to do what I have done a thousand times before.
My trip was wonderful and beautiful and those are the memories I will have. I am lucky to have them. To have the chance to laugh with my friends and see the beauty this world has to offer.
We joked about getting a tattoo all week. We went through several bad ideas, including my idea of a lobster tattoo to commemorate all the fallen lobsters I ate this week.
Eventually we decided on this. We saw so much beauty this week. We trudged through miles of evergreen trees to see the ocean, bluer than I thought possible.
I also like the strength and endurance of the evergreen. It’s a reminder that I can bear this pain and more.
A reminder that this week, I did just that.