Don't Judge Me for My Good Days: Psoriatic-arthritis.com

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  (This was posted Feb 16, 2024 - but I thought it was such a great topic that I wanted to repost it.) Please don't judge me based on my good days. Looks can be deceiving for someone with a chronic illness. What looks like a good day might actually be a good day. Or it might be a good few hours. Or it could be someone doing their best to function through the pain. You don't honestly know what someone is going through, especially when they have lived with the pain for a long time. You'd be surprised how much pain people can learn to smile through. Read the full article at psoriatic-arthritis.com

Those Kids Who Make You Think

To be perfectly honest, teenagers scare me. They don't listen, they always seem to be up to something, they don't plan ahead and I'm always afraid they're going to do something that will mess up their life. I think if you looked at me, people would tell you I need someone to look out for me. But that's not always the case. You see, I'm always looking out for some kids. They're the ones that make you want to back off too: 'Mean' girls and sulky boys.

I feel like everyone needs someone to look out for them. I watch out for quite a number of people, not just my friends. I look out for the disabled in my school (rather, as many as I'm aware of). I keep an eye on severals girls, some of which quiet and need  a friend and others who are popular but unstable. I worry for one boy who is so smart but just doesn't apply himself. Do I talk to all these kids? Some of them sometimes. Not often. I'm not stalking them: I just invite them to sit with me when alone and offer help when their eyes show it. In my mind, there are silent applauses each time I see passed in homework. In fact, everytime some of them laugh or even smile, I walk around with my day made.

Maybe it's dorky of me to say this because some of these kids seem perfectly capable of caring for themselves, and I'm not saying they can't but I can see pain and know when you just need someone. Perhaps if they knew this they would think I was a loser because I look practically like a baby compared to many of these kids. But, I've had so many times where a kid I had only met a few minutes earlier pour me their life story. I'm not nosey: I  don't ask questions. When someone is sad I am quiet so they can say anything they want the moment they want to without worrying if I was talking. I don't tell secrets either. Maybe they wouldn't think it's stupid I do this, or just assumed I cared for them even a little anyway.

"Some people care too much. I  call it love."

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