Grumpy Grumpy Grouch Grouch

I pushed "publish" on my cheerful and upbeat blog yesterday, bragging about how I can just ignore Fibro and have a fun week of "stay-cation" with my husband, and promptly burst into tears. I was in so much pain. I was a bloody dark Amethyst in mood. I was so angry that I can't do simple things like blog at the coffee shop for hours on end sitting on their bloody uncomfortable chairs and suffer no consequences. I knew it was coming, for I could not conduct a conversation with my friend on the phone I was in such a fog, but I wanted so badly to deny it! I felt guilt, of course, for infringing on our fun time and ruining his vacation since I already feel I have ruined his life. I was a radiating ball of negativity and sorrow. Came home, took some meds, got comfy on the sofa and relaxed all that tension a bit. But I knew today was gonna be a "flare pay-day" and even the thought of that pissed me off!

Of course when I woke up this morning I was foggy and already hurt, and Fibro does not usually hit me until I get out of bed. I wondered how well the full impact of a flare was going to go over with my husband. I went to get the mail and take the dogs out and on our way back I tripped and fell, and I mean fell hard! Luckily no one was around except for two unruly puppies that used the opportunity of my distraction to act up and run out into the parking lot! I gathered my scattered mail, pathetic self and bratty dogs and hobbled home, shameful and angry. My husband quickly turned negative and rude in reaction to my whiny and angry outbursts surrounding the whole incident, telling me I was to volatile and up and down. At this point I watched the impact of Fibro on a relationship and gained some incredible insight. The significant's in our lives don't want to deal with it. They cannot fix it, don't have it and often we do not allow them to have emotions or feelings about it. We are so busy trying to be believed, taken seriously and understood that we don't let them express how this impacts their life.

Spouses, committed partners, close family and die-hard friends go through this journey with us, yet we feel so alone and isolated. I think they do too. I think we have become so desperate in our plea to be heard that we have stopped listening to those closest to us. A while back I was discussing this topic with my husband. He was telling me how strong I am and how much he admires my fight. I told him he was too, but he responded I was the strong one, for I was the one with the illness. I proclaimed this happened to him too! He did not see it, could not grasp my point of view. I used my little brother as an example. I told him my parents don't have Autism, but by having an Autistic child, Autism happened to them too. He got it, he understood. So when he comes back from lunch with my uncle I am going to throw my arms around him and thank him for being here. He may not always act or react the way I want him to but this is his life as well, and he also deserves to be heard.

Thanks for joining,
Leah

P.S. Please "Follow" Chronicles Of Fibromyalgia on Networked Blogs on Facebook. Thanks!

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Back In The Saddle

Image
Well I got back on the horse. What else am I going to do? Take a long walk off a short pier or go play in traffic? So here I sit ready to try again. Raw, insecure and uncertain, but here I am. As I sort through the disillusionment in my mind I realize many of the sanity-saving tools I employed along the way got dropped in the dust a while back. I fell into my old behavior patterns. I allowed negativity and demands to infiltrate my sense of responsibility to myself. It's a big job, to regain my lost ground. I can do it, though. Not all at once, perfectly or on the first try, but it can be done. Of course this requires a significant amount of isolation and reflection. Accepting some will grumble over the selfish action of me taking care of me. Realizing that is not my problem. In fact, expecting myself to get a handle on my issues and then resume a level of interdependent living is exactly why I wound up back here in the first place.  I have finally accepted I cannot go back....
Read more

Waiting On the World to Care

Image
This blog has sat silent for many moons. For eight full ones, more or less, I've been imprisoned in an exile of my own creation. Initially I was so angry about my health relapse I didn't know what to say, other than to hurl epic amounts of fury at my keyboard. I had no solutions, no answers, and nothing positive to contribute. So instead of spewing hate all over the permanent cloud of internet technology, I donned the hair shirt of self-flagellation and turned that anger inward. It's been a horrible, terrible, no good, very bad eight months. As I got sicker and sicker, I got madder and madder. The angrier I became, the more I sequestered myself. I refused to talk about my problems or how I felt. It seemed pointless, like it didn't matter. Nobody could do anything about it or begin to comprehend my reality. There was just me, an isolated island of misery, who wanted to do anything but talk about being an isolated island of misery. But nobody understood that either. I...
Read more

Incurable Fog

Image
One day while driving down the street I forgot where I was. Mind you I just left Target and was headed toward home so had certainly been there before, but in that instant I couldn't have told you where I was on the planet if my life depended on it. I had to pull over and cry for a while, gnashing my teeth and pulling my hair over the fact that I was thirty years old and becoming so sick with something so unfixable, I was literally losing my mind. Flash forward a few years to when I had settled into the reality of living with fibromyalgia. Working retail was a painful necessity that was quickly running its course, so I set about trying to figure what on earth to do to earn a living. Naturally, this required me to take a Spanish course at the local community college. Not because I wanted to earn money off my non-existent Spanish 1 skills, but because I desperately needed to know if my brain was capable of learning and retaining new information, and I took French in high school.  I wo...
Read more