It's been a bear of a time (every time I use that phrase I think of Dan Sierra) lately with Fibro. Then again, when is it ever not a bear?
I've felt particularly grumpy about it. More itchy, more sleepy, more achy, more headache-y, more agitated to be in this vessel that is literally never without pain. Stabbing or aching or spasming or bruise-y or invisible sunburn-y. All the variations, each day a surprise of what hurts and how is my body going to attack itself today (they-whoever they are- need to realize and declare that Fibro IS autoimmune already!), and how exhausted am I going to be. Fibro doesn't care if I want to catch a movie, or ride my bike. It's not like the normals- they get sick, rest, pop back the NyQuil, put life on pause right quick until its back to the regular. Nope, with the Fibro life you've got to do the laundry, ride the bike, feed yourself, shower, get the groceries, and basically do what ya gotta do anyway. Of course rest is essential, and we learn to say no, and the guilt eases after a good long while, but we still have to function in society even though we wish we could just live in a sound proof bubble already!
It would definitely be easier that way. Personally I have been having an increasingly more difficult time being around other humans. More than ever. It's always been hard, but now it is downright miserable. My lifestyle is already extremely modified since I moved to NC, but as the months race by, Fibro intensifies. Sometimes I have no idea how I can keep living this way. We all make adjustments with this crazy sickness, and a lot of times it feels downright impossible & possibly like we are going a bit mad. Even watching television is becoming a major deal. The commercials have been muted for the last few years, but now sometimes I cannot even handle it at all.
It's a strange way to live. Lately my eyes have been super irritated. Itchy, aggravated. I can wear my contacts for brief snippets before the eyeballs beg for relief, even wearing glasses is uncomfortable. The migraines have been making their cameos.
Like I said, it's been more brutal. I've been thinking about how my body is directly affected by everything that goes into it. Not merely food, but the pollution and toxins that get in by way of conversation, reading material, social media, movies, television. It all matters. So in that, I am trying to be more intentional about what is feeding my spirit. It's challenging. There sure are a lot of distractions, but with this Fibro life I don't have much of a choice. My body is in constant distress, and I want to do what I can to make sure my emotions are not in the same state of alarm. Of course, to be fair to myself, I must also hold firm to the knowledge that Fibro IS legitimate & sometimes I can make many efforts to stay "in the clear" and still not be feeling emotionally okay. It's incredibly difficult to stay optimistic and good natured with this kind of beast on your back all the time. We fight like the dickens to smile and think positively and look UP. Most people I encounter get a mad case of the grumpies when they are ill, so I think those of us with chronic illnesses do a darn fine job of enduring and thriving despite the tight grip of unceasing sickness hot on
our heels every minute of every single day.
I might sound crazy, but I am proud to be amongst this group of soldiers. These strong warriors who look sickness in the face, feel the hot, stinky hell fire breath of doom and torture (Chinese water torture has to be a sister to Fibro!) and still find time to laugh and read good books and share meal time with their families.
I'm not talking about those who pretend they are fine. Not talking about those who are unwilling to admit how hard this sickness is. I'm talking about my precious sister friends who KNOW how monstrous this lifestyle is, but who fight hard every day to live, despite how much it wants to tear us down, knees scrapping the pavement, palms bloody from the fall.
These are the people I jump to my feet for, hands slapping together in enthusiastic applause. You give me courage! You give me hope! You make me remember, when in the din of my own despair, that we can do this! We ARE doing this!
So I thank you, again.
During this time, when my body is the worst enemy it's ever been, when the cold air wreaks havoc every, EVERYwhere (truly we must be human barometers), when I feel I could literally slumber for whole days on end... I think of you, my spiffy, STRONG friends, and I gather strength from your stories, from your agonies texted and whispered and shared in slivers.
I remember, I am not alone, and I can do this, because YOU are, and we ARE, and we will.
No one understands our pain, even the darling ones who honestly, sincerely try. But they don't have to.
Because I understand, you understand, we understand, and one of these days, oh dear God please, one of these days, maybe there will be more answers, and perhaps even a cure, or at least a pill instead of dozens that don't really work anyway.
Here's to hope.
Love,
Janet
"I know, more surely than I know anything, that any pang of healing or forgiveness or goodness I have ever felt comes solely from the grace of God."
-Philip Yancey
