#35 - Lupus Inertia

in·er·tia (ĭ-nûr'shə) n.
Physics. The tendency of a body to resist acceleration; the tendency of a body at rest to remain at rest or of a body in straight line motion to stay in motion in a straight line unless acted on by an outside force.
Resistance or disinclination to motion, action, or change: the inertia of an entrenched bureaucracy.
[Latin, idleness, from iners, inert-, inert. See inert.]in·er'tial adj.in·er'tial·ly adv.

FROM: inertia: Definition and Much More From Answers.com

I am now three years into living with systemic lupus.

My official confirmed diagnosis anniversary is at the end of May.

Immediately after the confirmed diagnosis there was a very brief euphoria...

believe it or not.

I think this is pretty common for folks who have been battling for years with an unrecognized medical condition.

You get this huge surge of relief that you are not crazy, this is real, and....

maybe, just maybe...

now you can be cured.

Having a name over an unknown adversary helps immensely too.

Once you have a name for what you are struggling over...

you gain some power over it.

So there was this very brief period after diagnosis in which I thought I could now "conquer the world".

Okay this is what I am dealing with.

This is my life.

I can regain control and move on from here.

And that is called the first stage of grief.

D-E-N-I-A-L

My denial did not last too long.

Energized with a knowing that I have systemic lupus, I tried to push myself. Hard to explain, but I am sure many of you with lupus have been through this.

You actually had to invest energy into proving to the medical world that something is organically wrong, and now you do not have to prove yourself anymore. You are finally being taken seriously.

AMEN!

Let's pull that life together... just push a little harder and everything will be okay.

I have lupus, but, heck... it can't be too bad, right?

And I pushed right into a huge crash landing that put me into an emergency room, MRIs and a steroid injection about two months after diagnosis.

Followed promptly by a spiralling depression that taught me that I am a mere human being.

I spent a loooong time in that depression.

And inertia set in.

Just getting out of bed daily was a battle.

That first wave of depression was tough, but I knew I could pull out of it.

I am a therapist after all.

I know what happens, I know what medications are needed, I know what support is needed and I know what I am supposed to do to work my way out of it.

I found writing to be the greatest release... and that is how blogging about lupus began.

I am not the poster child of quiet endurance and courage.

Anything but.

I have been writing about the kicking and screaming and hissy fits and pity parties... the whole nine yards.

I wrote and wrote and wrote... and I began to feel better.

Not so much physically, but emotionally, I was pulling it together.

The inertia is always there in the background, but I was begnnning to sweep it into a corner and tell it to shut up and leave me alone for awhile.

Everything changed this past September.

My best friend died of ovarian cancer.

In the quiet months... very quiet... way too quiet months that have followed since her death...

I have witnessed the end of my youth.

She embodied my girlhood.

We were pals since our teens.

And having to let go of her, cresting the wave of mid-life, while battling with some more setbacks from Ms. Lupus... I am slammed right back to where I was three years ago after the first "crash".

Well.. that was what I was thinking when I started writing today.

But, this crash is different.

More profound.

The lupus has made itself worse in some ways. I am weaker than I was three years ago.

This past autumn, I started having vertigo, and falling.

I developed leg spasms that could go on ceaselessly for days... not just a few minutes or hours... but non-stop for days.

So a new medication was introduced... which stops the spasms and keeps me vertical. But, the trade off has been a more disorganized mind.

Or is it the sheer raw grief?

Or is it the depression that dances with lupus?

Or is it the lupus doing a dance on my brain?

Does it really matter?

I am back down on the ground to fighting my way out of bed everyday.

I was pretty much IN bed over the past few weeks, so I have lost a lot of hard earned ground.

My stamina is the pits. I get shaky just walking about our little house.

I told my husband that maybe this is the frustration an athlete faces after an injury?

You work real hard, get knocked down, and now have to work even harder to get back to where you were.

And I am fighting mightily with inertia.

I slump onto the couch or in a chair and "zone out".

I can do this for hours.

The Cozy Cottage is a not so cozy mess.

My personal relationships have gotten messy as I have no energy to keep up with anyone.

I use what little energy I've got for my guys.

And then slump back into a heap after Little Bear is to bed.

I hate this.

And that is probably a really good thing.

Because hating this inertia is the momentum to drag out of it.

Although I have crashed, unlike the first time, I am no longer in uncharted territory.

This can and will get better.

I HATE inertia.

I am to the point of feeling disgusted at myself for watching way too much television, shutting myself in, and hiding from the world.

And thus begins a new stage in grieving over the lupus...

A-N-G-E-R.

I have found that I am really angry that this has happened.

It has happened not just to me, but to my husband, my son, my mother, my sisters, my neices and nephews, and my friends.

Lupus does not happen in isolation.

It's like a sinkhole.

Everyone in my life circle can get caught in the damaging path of lupus.

That is if I allow that to happen.

Some of the consequences are unavoidable.

Roles change.

Adjustments are made.

Life in your family changes.

Your old friendships have the potential to become better, but you find that you are going to lose friends who fail to comprehend the "new" you. You make new friends, you adjust...

life moves forward with or without you.

But, this inertia does not help.

It only does harm.

I am losing ground, every day spent in inertia makes the next day even more difficult.

Everyday spent in inertia is robbing my loved ones.

Everyday spent in inertia is robbing the best of what I have to give.

So is the inertia due to depression, grief, lupus, medications, sleep deprivation?

Does it really matter?

For some, yes...

it is important to tag down what is causing the inertia so that you can get power over it.

But, for me... right now... I really do not care where the inertia is coming from.

I just refuse to succumb.

So I write.

And I will continue to write.

Write, write, and write some more to make everything right again.

I received a really thoughtful note from a reader last week.

Thank you to that person.

I tried to e-mail you back, but the e-mail would not go through.

So I thank you for telling me that you have been reading this writing for over one year now.

Thank you for letting me know.

Thank you for that.

Because that is what keeps me from hiding on the couch all day and succumbing to this lupus inertia.