It's raining.

I love the sound making it's rat-a-tat song on the building as each drop hits it's mark.

I had the chance to rest today.

rest 1 (rst)
n.
1. Cessation of work, exertion, or activity.
2. Peace, ease, or refreshment resulting from sleep or the cessation of an activity.
3. Sleep or quiet relaxation.
4. The repose of death: eternal rest.
5. Relief or freedom from disquiet or disturbance.
6. Mental or emotional tranquillity.
7. Termination or absence of motion.

That's what it says the definition of rest is.

I do not know how to do that.

I enjoy stillness. I enjoy silence. I enjoy times of wonderful, glorious rest in prayer and presence, BUT I do not know how to just BE. I am a do-er. I do. I clean. I help people. I get things done. I was a list person my whole life, until a wonderful weekend with new friends at my brother's wedding and my cervical Cancer growth in 2005 made me SEE that living a list free, simple life is all I actually wanted. And still I worked my tail off, burning energy I did not have on working over 60, sometimes 80 hours a week nannying for a few families. It was brutal, but I pressed on and on and on. I did it because I loved it. I was called to it. Not to overworking of course, but to those families, those children.

And now? Now I am suffering the consequences of a life lived too hard and lifestyle choices that I could have made differently. A better diet, etc. I worked out, I was social, I was the "planner," the go to gal.

I used to miss that woman I was.

I used to cry and be mournful that I could no longer keep up with her.

Now I am at that midway point where I know that I don't want to go backwards, everyday brings new growth, but I am not arrived as of yet. I don't have perfect boundaries... YET. I don't always take care of myself first... YET. I don't understand my illness entirely... YET.

I want to be there, here, everywhere all of the time. I miss being able to order at Jamba Juice without my head spinning, sitting in a car without the motorcycle next to us causing an explosion inside of my head. I want to make it to the baptism, the baby shower, church, the girls' games, the social dinners, the bridal parties.

And still I know I can't and won't go down that road again. I have MUCH anxiety over this coming weekend. There are a few different events- all equally special and important, but I feel like going to any of them will push me over the edge. Going to physical therapy is taking it's toll. I was "fine" yesterday but now the fatigue and pain are back and fiercer then usual with the rain cascading outside.

I have to make a decision. Do I go to these special events and wreak havoc on my body that is already begging me to be still, to stop doing the laundry, to stop moving, to just freaking REST for once? Or do I disappoint (again) the friends who mean so much to me? Which do I sacrifice? I can already tell I'm in the mood of moods. PMS and this flare are making it hard to think clearly. I feel irate and tired and just ready to sleep, sleep, sleep for 10 straight days.

If I go to these events I will come home and be hurting for days, maybe even longer. I will be so fibro-fogged and full of noise and conversation that I will be grouchy and unpleasant. This is the pattern. This is the downfall of my illness. I look fine, I sound fine, and I'm a positive person but there are always repercussions with fibromyalgia.

Is it worth it?

Do I abuse my body or disappoint the people I love? Both are unappealing.