Yesterday was a good day...until it wasn't. Part of my Bi-Polar? The old hurt of being picked last in gym? At any rate, I went to bed with that ache in my chest. Woke up yesterday with the promise of a new day, sunny day, open up the windows day! Then, as it does, around 4 o'clock-ish every day, the ache started to set in. I work very hard on shoo-ing it away. I talk Bible verses outloud. I pray for strength. And I think of every reason for that hurt to be a waste of my energy and time. I keep saying I'm okay, and I'll work through it. And, the damn thing keeps stabbing at my already tender heart. Of course, I know what it is, and why it is, but I can't seem to get a handle on deleting what it is. Being picked last hurts. It did in grade school, and it still does.
Today, I awaken, immediately, to the same feeling. Dreams just won't let stuff go. But, here I am, "talking t' ya'll" (Lorretta Lynn, Coal Miner's Daughter), and I'm starting to feel some better. The night was cool, and humidity low, this am it's sunny--the day has promise. As long as the ibruprofen flows, it will be good. Nick (age 13) goes to his Dad's for the weekend, and I, yes I, have been demanded for public appearance. Okay, a great guy --engaged, way young--misses me down at the local temple of spirits. And I think I will appear. It will be my first public appearance since February. I'm sure nothing will have changed...except my appearance...but I will grace the place with my presence.
Today, I notice the Fibromyalgia with vigor! Holy, well, holy nothing, it hurts! As I did the other day, I scratched an itch (a real itch, silly) and my arm throbbed for half an hour. This disease--as it is finally called--is cruel. I look fine. And, there are those that have never believed there is pain or fatigue (not sleepiness) or dizziness, or foggy thinking, or...well anyway...but there is. And it sucks. I know there are people with so many worse burdens. I know that. And, unfortunately it is in my nature to want to fix their hurts. But, I can't fix them anymore than I can fix this. Being called a liar, whether outright, or with head-shaking, and eye-rolling is beyond frustrating. And when you are in the depths of a "flare" it's downright angering. There are new meds for Fibromyalgia. Okay, one new, and a couple they've discovered help the pain. I am fortunate enough to suffer with chronic depression and anxiety, that I am taking Cymbalta. "Cymbalta can help with the pain." And it does take the edge off. Show me a smiley pain chart and it takes my pain down to the face with only one tear. Occasionally, I have days with the straight face. Those are good days! Still, I write as much down as I can, or I just plain forget. Everything. Except that damn hurt in paragraph one. The fatigue, well that's a nap issue. For real! Naps and easy does it. Okay, it takes me a week to clean a 5-room apartment, but it's clean! On the days that my skin and hair hurt, I do nothing. The typical cycle--overdo when you feel alright, then pay for it for days. Yep.
Time for my dryer. Yes, I do things besides hang on the computer. The computer just seems to understand me the best!
"All things are possible through Christ who strengthens me"
AMEN!
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