I wish there was a magic button that enabled me to have freshly showered skin and be dressed in a few seconds. No muss, no fuss. It takes so much energy to endure a shower. Bonus? The hot water feels delicious and soothes sore muscles and weary limbs. The hard part is doing what I need to do and getting out. Today I started to get a Charley Horse. I used to get those so bad at night and every time (even in my twenties living at home) I would scream for my mommy. Not even kidding. The last time I got one so bad was the night of my going away party (though I still haven't gone anywhere so does it count? Ooh! Maybe it was the "going away" of the old me and the ushering in of the new? Pondering.). I was living at Simonne's at this time. She'd already moved in with her sister. So, I wake up screaming. And who is there besides me? Mylie. At the time she was still three. A sleeping, peaceful three year old and the crazy lady hollering at 2 in the morning. In the shower today I merely turned and it started to pull. Luckily I caught that sucker before it eclipsed into full on Charley Horse mode.
Whew. Close call there. It's really that serious.
I feel like my chest cavity is so fragile. It makes me laugh because how could it possibly hurt like this? It seems absurd. I had quite the frantic moment as I realized in horror that I don't remember the last time I felt normal. I wish I'd have known that was going to be the last day I would ever feel like my muscles weren't blazing, my insides individually screaming for attention, and like sleeping forever. I would have gorged out on all the foods that make me sick now. I would have walked miles for one last time. I would have went skydiving before I found out I never could again. I would have rode one last roller coaster.
I miss working. I still raise Mylie and that's a huge job, but I miss getting out there. I miss driving (this has been the biggest restriction on freedom! I don't have a car anymore and even if I did I would only drive every so often. I am much too jumpy nowadays and too overwhelmed by all the external stimuli.). I miss seeing the girls all throughout the week. I miss corporate prayer. I miss taking care of the parade of kids and being involved in their lives.
Staying in and living with fibromyalgia demands almost everything I have to give in a day. It's become my work. My task is to study it, learn it, figure out how MY body can be livable now, and set out to conquer this debilitating portion.
I cannot function at a "regular" job, but I was never really into that anyway. I spent the years 16-22 working feverishly. Two jobs at a time, management, etc. Climbing the corporate ladder and not slowing down at all.
Thankfully I started hanging out with Jesus and He showed me the joy of working for Him. :)
I was given a lot of slack about my choice to take care of kids rather than have an office job. I'm not sure if I chose it or if it chose me. I know that my passion and purpose is to love on kids/teens and see them get free from lives of abuse or hurt. God entrusted those precious lives to me. It was hard and yet I loved it!. It was much harder than any job I ever had, but it was easy too. Flawless. The kids and I fit together. It was awesome.
So now I am working on this blog for the 5 people (if that) that read it and support me. I am working on writing the book I've always wanted to write. Sentence by sentence. Slowly. I am typing even though my fingers ache and I feel like laying down.
The pain radiates all down my back. I feel everything. My legs ache beneath me, my neck pinched from holding up my head, and my shoulders and chest braving the perilous task of simply existing on my body.
I'm hungry but the idea of food is so not appealing.