Pity Parties aren't much fun. No one comes. You just sit around feeling sorry for yourself, maybe crying, ranting, venting, cussing and all the rest. It's exhausting and doesn't do much. (Especially for the complextion.)

Not that a little boohooing isn't called for now and again. I'm a crier, I should know. But, honestly, I cannot boohoo my conditions and hand I've been dealt all the time. It isn't healthy or very fulfilling.

For many of us, like myself, life took a drastic turn and when we became ill and we didn't know what to do with ourselves. Even resting with my trusty heating pads and green tea (high in antioxidants) I get antsy, feel useless at times, get stir crazy...

We have options. I work in my playbook journal by Sark (pictured) or read. I play word games. I invite people over for visits. I don't know if they would come if I invited them to my pity party as opposed to coming over for Scrabble or lunch or even tea.

No one free to visit? A phone call might do the trick. I'm not saying don't reach out during a meltdown, I just don't want to live in poor me land, sipping on bitter life tea- alone.

I used to be afraid or embarrassed to tell everyone about my conditions, but that alone was like a pity party, table for one. No one can befriend me if I don't let them in. And, it's so important for those of us with chronic conditions and pain to have the bright light of friendship in our lives so we don't isolate.

reaching out

by sunee lyn foley

If I reach my hand out to yours

will you accept it-

with all of my short comings-

now that I am no longer

the life of the party?

I no longer hide

from the gift of

laughing and sharing

and crying and giving

that friendship brings.

I will take the loving

hands that have been

so graciously

extended to me

and I will no longer

be alone on

this new road.

So, don't be surprised if I invite you to a party. Just know that it will be a joyous one filled with games and treats and fun. Knowing me I just might cry anyway.

peace and love,

sunee