I feel horrible today.
I cheated last night.
I had waffles... with syrup.
Now I feel like barfing all over this keyboard.
I am also PMSing so that's affecting my ability to function. Extra fatigue, extra mood swings.
BUT....
this week was AMAZING!
After deciding last weekend to forgo the 3 events, I rested. I took care of myself for once (that's some growth there!). So on Monday I had my 3rd physical therapy session. That time I did 5 minutes on the treadmill again (I realize that to a "normal" that is nothing, but to someone with fibro 5 minutes is like 30), my yellow ribbon exercises, a towel scrunch exercise, and a new one on this round thing called Baps (Biomechanical Ankle Platform System) where you put the foot on it and you have to make each side touch the ground. A lot harder then it sounds! Afterwards I had more electrical stimulation.
Tuesday it was just me and Mylie. We decided to go outside around the apartment complex and take pictures of the pretty flowers. I decided we might as well check the mail. That was my mode of exercise for awhile, until my ankle popped and all of the MRI and boot, etc. stuff. Well, we made it to the mailbox and I felt like going on. We walked down the hill and spotted a sign for a trail.
We stepped through the gate and hiked. I mean, we climbed hills, peed outside, the whole works. It was GLORIOUS!
I will say it again... it was GLORIOUS.
We took photos, we followed a mountain up to nowhere but an electrical tower. Headed back down and then around the mountain, looking at the water below, and down the dirt trail until we hit a part of the Benicia State Park. We then headed home up a steeper hill, and hooray we got back quick. It started to sprinkle as we got back onto the main street and we waited underneath a tree until it stopped. Then we walked back home. We did it! Me and my 4 year old best girl walked 2 and a half hours. She complained not once and we just trekked on. It was extremely exhilarating. I haven't walked like that since 2009. :) She was so excited to be out on our "adventure." We had such a blast. When we got home it was nearly 5:30. I got her into a warm tub and I changed into pajamas. My body was sore- oh so sore. The fibro fatigue came down like a heavy, wet blanket and all I could do was lay on my bed, ice pack on the bad ankle, and my Snuggie over me. I was thoroughly exhausted but it was worth it. I had freedom for 2 hours. I felt strong again. Independent. I adore nature and to be immersed in all that color was so cathartic.
The next day I had physical therapy again, so I went. They upped the exercise bike time to 10 minutes, added a weight machine for my ankle. They took the weights off but left the resistance bands on. I did 20 pushes on each leg, and then "tippy toe" pushes 20 times. Next the stretching and yellow ribbon exercises, plus the towel and "Baps," and then 20 minutes of electrical stimulation once more.
I felt good.
Strong.
And when I say I feel good or strong, I mean that loosely. I don't feel good physically in the slightest. No. It affects me in the sense that I feel good mentally. I feel stronger, ready to kick some fibro booty. But today it catches up and I canceled my physical therapy for today. I need some rest. A full day of nothing. No laundry, no to do's, nothing.
Today is for me.
I still have 16 appointments between now and the end of April.
Physical therapy is helping.
Everyday I feel more accepting of my condition, and more at peace with where God has me. I have my moments of pure frustration at being sick, but things are looking up. I wrestle internally. With this sickness it's like constantly re-learning that I am sick. One afternoon I may feel almost normal, and then it hits like a ton of bricks that I am not "normal." That I can't commit to plans, and that I cannot handle social functions.
I berated myself for ages. I considered myself lazy because I no longer worked outside of the home. I considered myself a bad friend because I couldn't go to the functions. Now I am accepting that I am not lazy. I still work my tail off. I DO have a job. I work FOR FREE and I work hard. I guess it's because to me taking care of Mylie has never been a job. It's work for sure, but I love her so much that it's second nature. She's like my own flesh and blood. But I do work. I work around the clock. I don't sit around. I want to and as I stated I am LEARNING to put me as a priority but I am not there just yet. I still wash dishes, do load after load of laundry, find time to clean, etc. I PUSH myself, which is a benefit but it is also my downfall.
It is what landed me in fibroland to begin with.
And I've realized that true friends are the ones who put no pressure on me to be any certain way. True friends have been the ones who have listened, heard, and applied the knowledge that THIS is my life now: taking care of me and figuring out how to manage fibro. There is no pressure to "attend" or "do." Instead I can just BE.
Surprisingly my family have become my closest friends. And then the special group of people who have continued to support and love me even AND especially at this darkest time. My fibro sisters have become my greatest confidantes and pals. I am so thankful to have this online community to share and help one another. It's pretty nuts how it feels like we know each other better then even the people we know in actual, everyday life. It has become necessary to connect with these amazing, brave, strong women. I am so proud to know them!
There are friendships that I've let go of... or perhaps they've let go of me. Either way I am healthier without them. I was betrayed by someone I've known for 15 years. Maybe I lost that friendship even years ago. Maybe that whole time we lived together was fake. Maybe she was always going to hurt me. I'm not sure. There is a loss there. I thought of her as a sister. I thought we were best friends. I watched her hurt people over the years, but somehow I thought I was exempt.
I wasn't.
I am working on not feeling guilty when I say no. I am learning to have boundaries. Actual, tangible boundaries. Not being "everyone's everything" but continuing to plug into the healthy friendships I do have. I am utterly grateful for the few that have stayed by my side. Encouraging me, chastising me, correcting me, pushing me to wellness.
I will be well.
I believe that with all of my heart. I may never be well in body (although I believe I will manage this and move forward) but the Lord has sustained my spirit, my heart. I am well in my soul. That means EVERYTHING when this spiraling disease comes and tries to suck you in, suck you down.
I am praying about what boundaries look like in MY life. I've never been good at erecting them. I love people. I love helping. I've always been readily available.
I get it now that that IS NOT GOOD.
No one should ever be available 100% of the time.
Jesus was teaching me about boundaries before... ever since 2005 I'd say... and I wasn't listening. I was involved with this and that and that and this.... you know the drill. And now, with fibromyalgia, I finally had to pause.
And now?
Now I wait and figure it out. I wait for Jesus to show me the next move. I am in a waiting zone and I both love it and hate it.
"Our problems that seem so overwhelming can be made small in the light of His greatness. That trouble that was making us miserable on Monday, testing us on Tuesday, winding us up on Wednesday, thrashing us on Thursday, frustrating us on Friday, and slaying us on Saturday becomes subjected on Sunday. In light of His greatness, our difficulties become petty, trifling, minute, trivial, paltry, insignificant, and microscopic. He is bigger than our frustration. He is bigger than our struggle. He is bigger than our crisis."
I've given in to worry. Finances are dry. No more donations have come in. My next appointment is fast approaching and I need to get more supplements, the stool kit test, etc. I have this special diet which costs about a billion dollars to actually eat that way. I'm wondering where the funds will come from, but I must remember Luke 12:22-31:
Then Jesus said to his disciples: “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat; or about your body, what you will wear. For life is more than food, and the body more than clothes. Consider the ravens: They do not sow or reap, they have no storeroom or barn; yet God feeds them. And how much more valuable you are than birds! Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to your life? Since you cannot do this very little thing, why do you worry about the rest?
“Consider how the wild flowers grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today, and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, how much more will he clothe you—you of little faith! And do not set your heart on what you will eat or drink; do not worry about it. For the pagan world runs after all such things, and your Father knows that you need them. But seek his kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well.
God supplies what I need EVERY single day. It's astounding to me that I know that but I still get a stress headache when I muse about what I am going to eat on any given day and have no funds. He is my provider and He provides. That's all I need know.
I'm a simple woman. Gone is the girl who used to collect magazines and trinkets and Barbie dolls. I gave that up years ago. I like simple. I like my papasan chair- given to me by a dear friend. I love my hundreds of photo albums. I like candles. Having toilet paper. Buying soap or candles. I dream of living in another country- away from the spoils of America. I dream of living "off the grid" like my best friend, Theresa, wants to. I miss the Philippines. I miss the humbleness of worshiping in small buildings- rooms really... sweat pouring, but the Spirit of God so obvious in such a place of humility. There is nothing to boast about but Him. I think of my own church- which I love. I love my Pastor. I love the heartbeat of heaven when we worship. I love the friends I've made there...
but something in me is stirring. I feel a call to simplicity. A higher call. It started in 2007 and slowly, slowly I began to yield to what God was instructing. It's insane how attached we get to "stuff." To possessions. I remember getting rid of my television show box sets. I was addicted to TV. I had shows lined up every single night. No one could interrupt me during them. It was my special time. I remember when Papa was first calling me to get rid of them. It was such a battle. I would literally sweat when I would sell them... little bit by little bit. And the enemy would set me up. I'd go to Target or wherever and there'd be all these television shows on sale. $14.99, $9.99. I'd pick them up, look at their glossy covers and feel the urge to buy them so bad. But God was faithful to me. He commanded, I obeyed, and He equipped me to let go of that addiction. Maybe it sounds silly. People get addicted to drugs, to cigarettes, to relationships. Not me. My addiction was television.
And then when my parents sold our family home I downsized more. Not by much. I just put it all in storage. A big storage. I had hundreds of dolls. I'd collected since I was a girl and they were worth some money. After a year or so I downsized that and moved to a smaller storage. I sold dolls at a doll show. I sold on ebay.
And then I eliminated the storage altogether.
Last summer when I moved once... then again to American Canyon... and then to Glen Cove all within 3 months of each other I had the opportunity to downsize more. Now I have some boxes in the living room- primarily filled with those albums, and framed photos, my cherished books, and a few dolls from childhood. I live simply and I like it. Shall the Lord ever bless me with a home of my own I want it to be so so simple. I will chuck my cell phone and live with a landline only. I will not buy posessions. I cannot stand how much money is wasted in America.
It's super that people can afford things, but it's such a waste to me. After seeing ACTUAL poverty in the Philippines it literally sickens me when people wear $300 jeans (especially if you are a Pastor. Sorry but it's true.)
Get over it.
Realize there are people starving out there. Realize that life is not about your toys. When you die will you take them with you? Do you want to leave a house of crap for your family to have to dig through? I encourage you to go to another country and see how they do their laundry, how the children are so overjoyed by a stuffed animal we'd toss out here. They don't need video games and nick nacks to be happy. They are so excited by our "reject" toys. I will never forget going to that orphanage. I will never forget when we had out community outreach. All those precious children lined up to get a box of juice and 1 toy.
1.
IF I should ever be blessed with children I will not spoil them at Christmas. We'll take a tip from 7th Heaven and give away something of our own. Something that means a lot to us. I will teach them the art of generosity. I do not want to raise my children here in spoiled America.
I'm on a rant I know. Bear with me. I'm not against enjoying life... but enjoy LIFE not stuff.
Buying something is never going to fulfill you the way being with Jesus will fulfill you. Having a vacation home, a boat... Really? Kudos to you for sending $10 or whatever to your sponsor child, but then you go and buy $200 worth of JUNK @ Target and it makes it okay?
No.
No way.
Go on vacation. Spend on experiences. Bless other people. If I were rich I would have a door open every single day where people could come and get money. I am glad to be poor. Is that weird to say? Lord, please never make me rich. I would rather be poor then to ever think I've got it all together because I have money.
This is not to everyone. This is directed ONLY to those whose hearts are FOR their possessions. Its something that really irks my nerve. Probably because I grew up thinking that my possessions were everything.
When I was in the Philippines I was at home. Partially because my roots (half of them anyway) come from there. I am that culture. It is home because my mom and my family are from there, but it is also home because it is so vastly different from here. I feel more at home on that soil then I ever have here.
I am thankful for our freedoms here in America. I am thankful to the men and women soldiers (like my baby brother) who put their lives on the line to defend our country. I am blessed by the lifestyle allowed here, but I am saying I want to live off the map.
I want to have the clothes on my back (okay, okay and my sweaters too. You know I love me some sweaters.) and my Bible. My favorite books. A place to read. Water nearby- maybe a stream or a lake. But just life. Just simplicity. A small community that shares the burdens with one another. Raising one another's children, helping one another.
That sounds delightful.
For example people take it for granted when they have a car. Most people have 2... some even have 3 per household. They are so aghast that I don't have a car anymore. Not by choice obviously. It sucks 800 buckets to not have a car, but that is my point. Spoiled America. Not everyone has a car. Not everyone can afford to eat at restaurants. Not everyone can buy new sweaters when all of their old ones have holes. I still have a debt to pay from 2005. I owe my best friend $400 for a time she helped me with medical bills. I never forget about it. I wonder when and if I will ever have that money. She never asks me about it, but it looms. I want her to know I still remember. I haven't forgot what I owe. I just don't have it. I struggle every week to have enough to eat. Thankfully I have a God who provides or else I would be...
on the street?
I'm not sure, but it seems probable.
Okay enough of my rambling.
I'm in a tired, "thinky" mood. I've got a lot to pray about.
All of my "everywhere" post to say: God is good. He sustains. He binds up. He is faithful.
It was a good week.
