So I have been battling a mini flare for weeks now. Sometimes these flare ups affect my joints, sometimes my skin, sometimes my muscles. But I have been trying my best to remain positive. But I am guilty of succumbing. Succumbing to the pressures that having a chronic illness can cause. So I cried. I cried. I cried. I cried. For three days. I cried. Sometimes it was the small tear type cry. Sometimes it was the nose blowing, snot dripping, on my knees, dear lord help me type cry. As I tried to regain my composure and let it go it got worse. But the longer I held it in, the stronger it wanted to move to get out. So I let it go… I let it out.. I let it be. My emotions are my emotions and when there is a horrible imbalance and they want to be expressed I let them express themselves. Until you live with a life of roulette you never understand. A life where everyday you try to cope. Try to understand. Try to go on. But I must say even though 4 days later I have made the decision to not have a pity party, it still hurts. I can feel the tears forming in my eyes as I type. It still hurts. And it hurts. Then I am over it. But then it hurts. And all I can think is that this is just a cycle. Like the rolls of a tire, the rain to the ground and from the ground to the sky. The cycle. It. Never. Ends.