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Wow, yeah. This is a huge topic. Everyone with chronic illness feels differently. All of us have the same needs, feelings and experiences as everyone else. We just have an invisible illness that is disbelieved by most people. So, I will speak about mine. I cannot say it for someone else.

I am still exploring how I feel with chronic illness. I was just diagnosed with Fibromyalgia and Raynaud's Phenomenon on Friday and I know that it has been difficult. It's one thing on top of another and I have so much going on already. But I learned to quiet my mind. I had suspicions and all I had to do was fight and wait.

Yes, I had to fight.

From the ER visits last year to telling a neurologist that she was wrong, I have cried and planned. I am also a natural researcher and I am pretty good at finding reliable sources. I have brought up many good points, but all people judge me on are my looks - my wide frame and round face. It took some doing for my PCP to even look over lab results too.

Fibro, Raynaud's and MCTD fight just as hard as I do and I am often down for the count after dealing with what's in front of me. Even when I sit down, I feel like not all of the weight is relieved. Sometimes, it is even painful and utterly exhausting. I am typing this blog post out, so my bare arms are touching my desk, which is cold. I have not gotten anything to cover it yet.

I had an appointment on Friday at a facility in Southington. I was nervous because I feared that I was going to be dismissed again. I read reviews about one of the personnel doing unnecessary work. I was surprised when I came into kindness and empathy. To me, it felt like the effort was worth it and that maybe I was the imposter in the wrong office. Of course, I was wrong.

The fight has not ended yet. There is much more that I've had to deal with. People think I am strong. Yes, I show a really good face the past couple of years. I give inspiring and encouraging words. I also know what it is like to be without. I know what life has dealt me already and I want to stop that cycle. I ran through several coping mechanisms and seek within everyday.

I am not the same person I was three years ago.

Because of that, I lost a lot of people. Thinking about it, as soon as I realized what I wanted in life and the boundaries, the rest was easy. Even with those I love, the one thing I noticed first is that hardly anyone reaches out to me. At all. I know that everyone is busy - careers, children, parents, health, traveling, anything! I have the same problems. I am everybody's back-up, though, and I have stepped up until I no longer could. For about 90% of people I know (blood family and in-laws mainly), that was not enough.

I was not kidding when I said I was called nasty things. Over-glorified housewife. A financial burden. Imagine hearing that for your whole life, and then having a chronic illness. The depression and anxiety alone can be crippling.

Not to say that I hate the peace. I love it actually. Sometimes, though, in the small parts of myself, there is a need for a good friend around my age (other than my husband). I gave so much of myself that I cannot give much more except for my books.

It is also weird of me to say this:

I do not do well with other women. I can relate and some are empathetic. I've had terrific conversations with women and even my therapist identifies as female. Honestly, I fit in better with the men. Strange to say that they understand the pain and do not compete. Most of my closest friends are male.

Chronic illness and trauma go hand-in-hand. What are your thoughts about it? If you have any chronic illness, how do you feel about it? Do you think, upon self-reflection, some of them are cruel?

Namaste!

#ChronicIllness #RoundTwoFight #Fibro #Raynauds #HowIFeel #DancingInTheDark #IndieAuthor #NewBritain

This is it!!! We are going back to Trinity-on-Main today!!! Doors will open at 10:30. We will be here until 3:30. What better place to begin your holiday shopping? Local vendors are unique.

I will be busy with events and the holidays for the rest of the year. #BehindTheScenes and #TuesdayTrivia will restart in January 2024, after Calvin goes back to school. "Chronically Writing" will continue, when I can (as always). I plan to do #Thankful videos again in November until Thanksgiving. And, of course, keep an eye out for updates about the book series.

Namaste, everyone!

#OffWeGo #SecondTime #BookEvent #CraftEvent #IndieCreators #ComeOnDown

Hi, everyone! Here are the answers for the trivia. Which ones did you get right? Comment and share below. Until next time, namaste!

Jamie Farr/Character of Klinger - The actor itself has a mention in Through the Meadow. When the character of Miranda is sent to another kingdom for safety, she meets the King. His companion is named Jamie (short for James) and...you guessed it...he is a crossdresser. M*A*S*H was on syndicate when I was growing up and my parents played it constantly. Jamie Farr is a unique inspiration! United Nations - I know I did this previously, but this is worth a repeat for those who are new. The United Nations was the basis of the United Front, mentioned in Through the Meadow. While the initial making of the organization in Through the Meadow was meant to smuggle people to safety and for espionage, its aim was also to address world problems and to help others in need. The United Kingdom - The UK was part of my idea for the dual monarchy of Klenard and Tommel. In the fictional history books, Tommel was meant for appeasement, but was always under the jurisdiction of Klenard. The UK has a complicated history with imperialism, most notably with their immediate neighbors. I will not get into specifics, but I think everyone has an idea of the infighting and rebellion that has happened between Wales, Ireland, Scotland and England.

#TriviaAnswers #TVShows #Funnies #UnitedNations #TogetherWeStand #Imperialism #SunNeverSets

Ode to the West Haven, CT VA Hospital

None of Them Were Human

They walk through sunshine, through rain,

And they came home from the jungles, deserts, and forests.

There were stacks and stacks of paperwork before them.

The finish line was nowhere in sight.

None of them were human.

In the meantime, the ungrateful called them out.

Baby Killers, they said, and they threw garbage without cheer.

Shame crept in and none of it made sense in their trauma.

The tentacles of the deep pulled them under for a swim.

Because none of them were human.

It took days, weeks, months, years, to get through.

Once becoming an insider, it was unlike any underworld.

They could not trust their own eyes

The new entity that swallowed them whole.

Oh, none of them were human.

The stars were supposed to align and shine.

This was the Promised Land that was garbled about.

But those who sent soldiers to war could do nothing

For those returning to a world that pushed for normalcy.

For none of them were human�

The silent swirl of darkness kept them in the cold mud.

The only conveyer belt assembled misshapen parts

On each specimen, congratulating them on

A job well done � as if killing another soul invigorates.

But none of them were human.

It is the primal screams of a dying animal,

But they are told they are the crazy ones

It is the sugar sweetness of the nurse’s injections,

But the only person she looks after is herself.

And none of them were human.

There was no privacy, no dignity, amongst them.

Soldiers crawled until they could no longer remain stuck.

The best they felt was at the bottom of the bottle,

Smiling as they wished for a bullet to the head.

Yes, none of them were human�

The cycle repeated itself time and again.

The muddy trenches deepened without mercy.

Suddenly, there was no names and numbers.

They said that there was no humanity amongst filth.

Only none of them were human.

And here I sit�

A half-shaken stirring scream of wordless

Years of suffering and darkness

That has no meaning, no gender, no name.

None of them were human.

That was where you were mistaken.

c. 2023 Sara Ellie MacKenzie

PROLOGUE

KINGDOM OF KLENARD HOT SEASON, 279

Tomorrow, I am going to die.

It was ordained by the Lord. I felt very lucky. Most people have to wait for God to collect their souls. They never knew when that moment was going to be. They might meet an unfortunate accident or a slip of the tongue might destroy them.

John Bryon-Howe, the former Duke of Shaeriden, sat nearby. He had not moved much more than an inch from the fireplace since I had arrived. A man so still and so close to death should not be wasting his time in silence. I was frightened for his sanity and hoped that he did not lose his mind in the end. He was supposed to be beheaded with me on the morn.

“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,� I began. I hoped to coax something out of him.

Yet, His Grace said nothing.

The night progressed. We could hear the workers below, sawing wood and nailing it together. Some guards called out the hour. The birds called out a lovely tune.

God granted me a beautiful last evening.

I decided that I was going to turn my mind to a night of prayer. The last of my belongings had been dispersed with long ago. Because I had been condemned as a warlock, Archbishop Gaines was going to excommunicate me before the beheading. The Lord had granted me serenity this very night. I no longer had any earthly worries, not even the prospect of being outside of Mother Church’s flock.

I crawled to my remote corner with the large pillow. A few minutes later, I felt a heavy weight beside me. Another set of lips spoke the same familiar words.

I let a smile escape.

We both stopped a little while later, but we did not move. We pretended to be praying silently. The guards were changing and the scaffold was finished. The stars were just letting up. The sun was still hours away.

“What do you think, Redeemer?� Bryon asked me. “Do you think it will be quick?�

His words startled me. It was confident, as it normally was, but his questions slightly quivered. I understood. He was going into the next unknown with me. This man, who had experienced war, betrayal, death, and politics, was asking me for reassurance.

How do I answer him? I am no priest.

It was not going to matter soon anyway. We were going to die. Whether he came to terms with it or not was something not meant for my shoulders. I did not need to additional bondage to this earth.

But I replied anyway. “I heard that the executioner was swift,� I joked. “Your Grace should be comforted to know that God will be waiting on the other side. He will heal all pain.�

Bryon shook his head with laughter. “What brought us so low, Redeemer? Why did we not see it coming? What brought us to this revolution?�

I was startled. I thought the outburst was rhetorical. Bryon was serious, though. He was of noble bearing, after all, and I was formally a small landowner. He wanted a story. It was not to while away the hours before we died. Every Klenard man needed comfort when he went into the next stage of his life. His Grace was no different.

“The new Klenard was difficult,� I offered him weakly.

He nodded, encouraging me to continue.

“But we were all comfortable under the old Queen,� I dared to add. “Like you, Lord Bryon, I was born under the happiest of decades…�

Hi, everyone, and welcome back! For those who are coming here for the first time, salutations! I am Sara Ellie MacKenzie, local indie author and newly-diagnosed as autoimmune, with Multiple Connective Tissue Disorder. If you need more info about the disease, please click .

Otherwise, let's talk about those good days...

Unfiltered.

Today is one of those so-called good days. The line in the meme where it says, "I think it's fine, we're good..." I feel like...

I got up without much trouble. I was able to make breakfast without starving myself until noon. Actually, everybody got breakfast. I was tired after that, but was able to do some clean-up and laundry. Right now, I am sitting here on my computer, taking a rest from that, I am typing this.

It is difficult for me because I have very limited help. My father is dead. My mother and in-laws have extreme conditions and I do not play games. Friends have moved on or have other concerns that they are focused on. Other family members are out of state or they are sick or are caretakers. We have someone dear and he comes once a week.

Many people say to pace yourself. Do what you can. Set smaller goals. And I think that is what a good day is all about. I always add that everybody's best is always different, though.

For example, I look at this picture and think: ouch. This was last night, while it was raining. My best was different then. Even though it is harder to get my rings on today (and I chose not to wear any), this is a great day.

Why?

I have come to a point where I can confidently whiz by while in pain. I can take breaks and not look at a queue of people, waiting for me to take their call. The pacing, even when I am slow, reminds me that the world still goes on. Even when I feel rushed at the store, I am realizing (also slowly) that it is me that is hurrying away, not the people behind me pushing me.

Do you know what else makes this a great day?

I could do something for my husband for once.

But that is the empath in me talking. It makes me feel happy to help others. I am learning boundaries and any trauma survivor will tell you that it is hard to keep them. Back to the good days, though...

For a few moments, I was the normal mom. The smiling mom. The happy mom. It's not that I am those every other day. I just felt it more today than most other days. That, and I love the peace. There is no space filled with yelling and snide comments.

Wet sand isn't so bad, is it?

Namaste, everyone, and have a great rest of your weekend!

#DayTwo #DontYouGetIt #IAmHereToStay #ChronicallyIll #MCTD #GoodDay #MomAndWife #SpecialNeedsMom

Sorry about the false alarm earlier, everyone. I was about to edit this post and for some reason, it posted. It has been deleted and I had to start ALL OVER AGAIN. Thank God, I did not get further than a paragraph. Otherwise, I would have been kinda mad.

Well, if you have not noticed, the blog has a new name. For the longest time, I did not have one nor did I think one was required. But then, after reliving the horrible experiences I've had just being diagnosed with an autoimmune disorder, I wanted to share it with others.

So, I am...

I might shorten it later. For the time being, it fits. It has a lot of personal meaning to me. I think the first two words make sense - Chronically Writing is true is cliche as well as the truth. I am always thinking up stories, working out plots, and chilling in my office, writing. Wet Sand is the mystery, isn't it?

Not really. It's from a Red Hot Chili Peppers song by the same name. The metaphor (how I took it anyway) is forming under impossible situations and maturing past the trauma of our childhood and growing years. Wet sand can't help you with much unless you are able to overcome it with the tools around you. When everything is falling down around you, you have a couple of choices: stand in the storm and handle it the best way you can or you can fall apart and let the storm drown you.

So, after many years of being told one thing and then another, I have been finally diagnosed with Multiple Connective Tissue Disorder. There is info about the disease, if you need a reference. In short, it is an autoimmune disorder which has components of several diseases, such as RA, lupus, etc. It comes with other disorders such as Raynaud's (which you can see more info about here) and Pulmonary Hypertension (which you can find out more about ). It has been debilitating and sometimes humiliating. It also puts a new perspective on everything in my life.

This is the first thing I hear. It has been told to me ever since I was young. If you all have not noticed, I am a plus sized woman. My body shape is not something I can control, although my weight has been fluctuating for many years. That is another story for another day.

That being said, when I am told to do something, I am going to do it. I am not big about asking for help. This happened when I lived with my family of origin. So, it's difficult to express my pain. Many people do not believe me when I say it because they see me perform so well. I've been told that my pain was in my head, that it's my stress, anything that did not refer to the ANA+ I received on a blood test.

When someone looks at me, they blame my weight immediately without asking me anything. They think that if I work harder, then I would lose that weight and get better. It is my fault that I am this big.

The truth is far from that. When I was younger, I was forced to constantly exercise and work on labor intensive activities. I was considered weak because of my "weight", when all I had was muscles, body shape and puberty against me. I was always told that I was unattractive, not trying enough, anything to keep me far away from the pretend goal of being thin and beautiful. To give you a hint of how far this went: I was punished for ridiculous things, like wanting to play with Barbies when a parent wanted me to watch the women's soccer game on TV.

No, I do not have diabetes. I am not at risk for stroke. I literally was given limited food and calorie counted, shamed for not liking sports and more. Honestly, I was praised in high school when I skipped breakfast and lunch (the latter at school) and only had a salad as a snack before dinner. I had a small portion for dinner and that was it. This kind of behavior went on even when I was pregnant and the few months I stayed after Calvin was born, until I left that nest. The times I was not at my place of residence, I ate whatever I wanted.

And the problem is, none of these tactics made me thin. Healthy food and regular exercise? All the way. With MCTD, I force myself to at least walk in my yard and do some chores. If I do not, I will gain weight and I have.

This is a trauma that I am still working through. It was a difficult time and one I realize now is narcissistic abuse. It is torture to question yourself and have to keep a happy face. This is something that I never want on anyone, not even my worst enemy.

At this time, I am fighting for treatment and I only have medication without refills unless I call my PCP (again). I do not want to get in to any specific details yet. For the moment, I am still processing this news. It is a relief to have a name. It is another to understand the disease on my own. Saying something now about it, after keeping it so locked up, is a weight off of my shoulders, though.

I hope all people like me read this and know that it is not their fault. It is not in your head. Keep advocating for yourself and never have someone tell you it's all wrong. This is a judgment free place!!

Because some days are going to be bad. REALLY bad. Like the "Author Confessions" post I made a few months ago. But some are also good, when you are hurting, but is is tolerable, and you are dancing. Those are the times we have to hope for.

I have decided that chronic illness is not defining me 100%. Like with trauma, I am not a victim. I am a survivor and swimming in new waters.

Yes, you do. You do matter too. Today is a good day to have a good day.

Namaste!

#ChronicallyIll #MCTD #FightingMom #NoIDontNeedHelp #Trauma #Survivor #WetSand #YouMatter #KeepGoing #IndieAuthor #NewBritain

Wow, when did October get to be halfway over now?

It's another Thursday and we are #BehindTheScenes. Today, I am going to talk about chronic illness. This is not a generalized post. I am diagnosed and it does affect the way I write, when I do it, and how I live my life. Trauma has a lot to do with it.

I do not make it a secret that I was abused. Growing up, though, I was convinced of many things, one of them being my weight. I am not skinny, I am round. My body shape cannot be a twig and I have accepted this. However, I have learned that I can control my weight and this has led to other problems I will discuss later. Yes, this has to do with chronic illness.

Because my father had a construction accident and undiagnosed problems until the late 1990's, he was a terror. Nobody could possibly be in pain worse than him. I admit, the incident was bad. He fell two stories and hit his head on hard concrete while doing construction work. But it meant that being sick was not welcome. I had to rough it out through several illnesses and still do chores, go to school, etc.

For years, I denied my pain and pretended it did not exist. I could not possibly have a problem! But it took a nosedive a couple of years ago. When my blood tests finally came up ANA+, I felt like there were answers. I did not realize that it was only the beginning - advocating for myself, dismissive doctors, and even a hospital that triggered my trauma and they call it troublesome. All of it ended in tears (yes, emotional dysregulation is a bitch and I am still learning) and I am still pushing through.

What do you see in this selfie?

It's a common scene. I am in my office, listening to music and smiling. I am most likely writing my book. I have ideas, excited about the future. Calvin is in the other room, playing. I can hear him making noises. My husband is home, checking into something around the house. We own our house and he is always fixing something.

Besides the stress about no income, this picture was like every other day: joint pain and a migraine. One of my eyes is blurry and it is not because my Rx for my glasses is off. Every time I reach across my desk to type, the inside of my arms touch a cold surface and that is painful. The noises around the house make it worse.

But I am still working.

The reason why I keep myself so busy, work so hard, is because of my early life. Told that it was never enough and I could not possibly be that sick. I carried that throughout my professional career, even to this day. I hardly nap or take a break. Everyday, every hour, I am working. The majority of my day is being an author and I am doing this all on my own.

Please kind to those who do not have the same abilities that you do. Disabled does not mean unable. We are at a disadvantage versus people without illnesses. For more info, you can check this out.

Namaste!

#ChronicIllness #Invisible #Invalidation #AllTestsNormal #PainAndFatigue #NoDownDays

Hi, everyone! Welcome to another edition to #FindOutFriday. These are the answers from Tuesday. How many did you get? Let me know in the comments. Tune in next week for #BehindTheScenes!

Enos - This is the name of the world in Wrapped in the Rays of the Sun. Enos was the name of a Biblical figure, specifically the grandson of Adam and Eve, through their on Seth. He is considered to be an ancestor of Christ and an Islamic prophet. For the series, it lines more along the Jewish faith, where man comes to a point where they found fault with their sins and found redemption. Ice Bucket Challenge - In A Circle is Broken, the characters of Catherine and Andrew fought. Once, the former poured water over the head of the latter. This came to me because of the ice bucket challenge from years ago. The scene was not meant to bring awareness. Truly, the characters were frustrated! Ancient Carthage - In Through the Meadow, the characters of Miranda and Julia settle on the western shores of the kingdom of Cherls. In the year 277, their village was attacked by the enemy. The multiple offensives by Mother Church was an echo of the Punic Wars. Ancient Carthage and Rome fought three times. The audacity reminded me of both sides and the struggle to keep lands from invasion.

Namaste, everyone! Have a great weekend!

#ItsFriday #TriviaAnswers #History #Geography #ALS #IndieAuthor

I am a busy person. I have a nonprofit that aims to help indie authors. Info is updated often on this website. Of course, how can I forget that I am an author too? Don't forget to support #IndieAuthors!

#IndieAuthor #BooksSeries #NonProfit #VocalForLocal #NewBritain