Because at this point, I’m not asking for much. Just a little peace, a whole lot of money, and maybe a functioning immune system.
Dear Diary,
I don’t know who I upset in a past life, who has been playing with my voodoo doll, or which one of my ancestors forgot to settle a debt, but we need to have a conversation. 😂
Whoever has my voodoo doll, could you PLEASE give it a cuddle, rub its back, whisper some positive affirmations, and put a little money in its pockets?
And by a little money, I mean enough to cover my medical bills, pay off my debts, take a vacation, and possibly retire early. I’m not greedy. I just have a very detailed definition of financial stability. 💸
While you’re at it, could you stop bending its neck, squeezing its chest, twisting its intestines, and randomly sticking pins in places that were perfectly fine five minutes ago?
Because, respectfully, I AM TIRED!
And whoever is responsible for this ongoing production of What Else Can Possibly Go Wrong?, I’d like to speak to management. 😂
🏠 My Autoimmune Roommates Are Behind on Rent
Let’s discuss the two tenants who have taken up permanent residence in my body: Crohn’s Disease and Myasthenia Gravis (MG).
Crohn’s has been living here since 2003. She’s the original tenant, the one who moved in and decided she was never leaving.
She doesn’t pay rent, doesn’t clean up after herself, and occasionally decides to renovate my entire digestive system without obtaining the necessary permits.
Then there’s MG.
MG moved in much later, looked around, and apparently decided Crohn’s wasn’t causing enough problems.
Now she’s interfering with my muscles, my breathing, my neck, and occasionally my ability to perform the simplest tasks.
And the two of them? They don’t even have the decency to coordinate their schedules!
Crohn’s will have me running to the bathroom while MG decides my legs are no longer interested in participating in the journey.
Ma’am, how exactly am I supposed to make it to the bathroom when my transportation department has gone on strike? 🚽😂
At this point, I don’t need another specialist. I need a property manager who specializes in evicting autoimmune diseases.
And considering I’ve spent more than 25 years in property management, I feel uniquely qualified to tell you that these tenants have violated EVERY clause of their lease.
I have issued multiple notices to comply, documented every violation, and requested immediate possession.
Unfortunately, the court of autoimmune disorders keeps ruling in favor of the tenants.
Eviction denied. AGAIN! 🙄
And apparently, they’re both protected under some very questionable tenant protection laws.
🪡 Whoever Has the Doll, Please Review the Instructions
I think there has been a serious misunderstanding about how this voodoo doll is supposed to work.
You’re supposed to be manifesting blessings, not creating additional medical appointments.
So, allow me to provide a few instructions.
- The head: Please stop squeezing it. I have enough to think about.
- The neck: Kindly return it to its original strength. I would prefer not to feel like a bobblehead.
- The chest: Whatever you’re doing, STOP! Breathing is supposed to be an automatic function, not an extreme sport.
- The stomach: Leave it alone. Crohn’s has that department covered, and she doesn’t need any assistance.
- The legs: Please make sure they work when I stand up. That’s literally their job.
- The immune system: Please locate the factory reset button. This one has clearly been operating with defective software for years.
- The pockets: THIS is where I need you to focus. Stuff them with money, financial security, and maybe a winning lottery ticket. 💰
And while we’re making adjustments, could you please upgrade the doll’s energy level?
I’d like to wake up refreshed instead of feeling like I spent the night fighting for my life in a WWE championship match.
I don’t think that’s an unreasonable request.
💸 Can We Manifest Something Other Than Medical Bills?
I would like to formally request a change in the type of excitement entering my life.
I’ve had enough surprise medical expenses, insurance denials, unexpected symptoms, and appointments that require me to explain the same medical history for the 437th time.
I would like different surprises.
A surprise deposit into my bank account.
A surprise vacation to a tropical island.
A surprise notification that all my medical bills have been paid.
Or even a surprise morning when I wake up and every single part of my body decides to cooperate.
I know. That last one might be asking for a miracle. 😂
But seriously, could we redirect some of this energy toward prosperity?
Because my body has been living like it’s in a medical drama, and my bank account has been auditioning for a survival documentary.
And neither production is paying me royalties!
At this point, I don’t need another character-building experience. I have enough character to populate an entire television series.
What I need is a direct deposit, a paid vacation, and for my immune system to mind its business.
Preferably in that order. 💸
😂 If I Don’t Laugh, I’m Going to Lose My Mind
Here’s the thing about living with chronic illness: sometimes the only way to get through the ridiculousness is to laugh at it.
Not because the pain is funny.
Not because the exhaustion is imaginary.
And certainly not because the challenges of living with multiple chronic conditions are anything to joke about.
But because there are days when my body does something so outrageous that I genuinely don’t know whether to laugh, cry, or request a refund.
And since nobody seems to know where I can return this defective model, I’ve decided to keep my sense of humor.
Some days, I laugh through the frustration.
Other days, I laugh because the alternative is allowing everything I’m dealing with to consume me.
And sometimes, I simply laugh because Crohn’s and MG have clearly lost their minds, and I refuse to lose mine along with them.
My body may be operating like a poorly managed circus, but I am still the ringmaster. 🎪
Even if the clowns occasionally take over the show.
And trust me, some days those clowns are running the entire operation without adult supervision.
🌻 A Little Less Survival, a Little More Living
All jokes aside, I don’t actually believe someone is sitting around torturing a little doll that looks like me.
Although, if one of you has a suspicious-looking doll with curly hair and a sunflower accessory, we may need to have a conversation. 👀😂
What I do believe is that life can become so overwhelming that even the strongest people find themselves wishing for a little relief.
Not another lesson in resilience.
Not another opportunity to prove how strong they are.
Not another reminder that they’ve survived everything life has thrown at them.
Sometimes, we just want things to be easier.
Some days, I don’t want to be strong, resilient, or inspirational.
I just want to wake up, drink my coffee, mind my business, and have a body that minds its business, too.
I want to make plans without calculating how much energy they’ll require.
I want to enjoy my family, my friendships, my career, and my life without constantly negotiating with my health.
And yes, sometimes I want a little extra money in my pockets, because being chronically ill is expensive, and these medical bills aren’t going to pay themselves!
I don’t need a perfect life.
I just want more moments when I’m living instead of simply surviving.
More laughter that doesn’t come from trying to make a difficult situation bearable.
More adventures, more memories, more spontaneous decisions, and more days when I can simply be Kia.
Not Kia the patient.
Not Kia the autoimmune warrior.
Just Kia.
The woman who loves her family, the beach, music, sunshine, and a good laugh.
The woman who still has dreams, plans, and a whole lot of living left to do.
And if a little voodoo doll is somehow involved in making that happen, somebody PLEASE give her a hug! 💜
🎵 Music Playing…
“Just Fine” — Mary J. Blige 🎶
Because even when life is being completely disrespectful, I’m still determined to find my joy, embrace the good moments, and remind myself that my circumstances don’t get to dictate my entire outlook.
And if my voodoo doll happens to be listening, this is your cue to start manifesting some blessings!
💭 Reflection Corner
Humor doesn’t erase the challenges we face, but it can make them a little easier to carry.
I’ve learned that I can acknowledge how difficult life is without allowing those difficulties to define every moment of my existence.
I can be exhausted and still find something to laugh about.
I can be frustrated and still appreciate the good things in my life.
I can have a bad day without deciding that I have a bad life.
And I can absolutely wish that whoever has my imaginary voodoo doll would stop using it as a stress ball.
But here’s something else I’ve learned: I don’t always have to turn my struggles into inspirational lessons.
Sometimes, I’m allowed to be tired.
Sometimes, I’m allowed to be annoyed.
Sometimes, I’m allowed to admit that I’m over it without immediately following that admission with a motivational speech.
And sometimes, I’m allowed to laugh at the absolute audacity of my circumstances.
Because resilience isn’t always about pushing through. Sometimes, it’s about giving yourself permission to rest, laugh, and simply exist without having to prove how strong you are. 💜
💬 Let’s Talk!
If someone had your voodoo doll, what would you ask them to do differently?
Would you request a hug, a massage, a vacation, a better night’s sleep, or a few extra dollars in your pockets?
Personally, I’m requesting the deluxe package: good health, financial freedom, unlimited energy, and a lifetime supply of peace.
And if that’s not available, I’ll settle for a cuddle and a winning lottery ticket! 😂💰
Drop your requests in the comments. Who knows? Maybe whoever has our dolls will finally get the message!
💜 Until Next Time…
Life with chronic illness isn’t always pretty, predictable, or easy. But even when my autoimmune roommates are causing chaos, I’m determined to find reasons to laugh, moments worth celebrating, and opportunities to keep living.
Because I am so much more than my diagnoses, my difficult days, or the challenges life puts in my path.
I’m Kia, out here living, laughing, and surviving—one ridiculous plot twist at a time.
And to whoever has my voodoo doll: I’m not asking for much. Just a little love, a whole lot of money, and for you to STOP treating my body like a Build-A-Bear workshop gone wrong! 😂💜🌻
With love, laughter, and a very tired immune system,
Kia Lorice 💜🌻
Founder • Author • Advocate • Future Wellness Coach
The Dual Diagnosis Diaries | Kia’s Journey
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