coffeebarconfessions

Everything I've ever done that mattered in my life, at the time, was a stupid thing to do. Starting a romantic relationship with a college friend, a month before I graduated and moved away, wasn't the smartest maneuver I've ever made. Especially considering I spent the next six months in knots falling in long-distance love with said friend. When he impulsively gave away everything he owned and flew down on an airplane to move in with me, pretty much everyone we knew thought we were nuts. And we were! Never were it more obvious when we got engaged a month later, however. But the wildest decision came less than a year after our wedding, when we sold our car, took on rent proportionate to the GDP of a developing nation, and moved to San Francisco. Sadly the fun adventure stopped a few years later, when yours truly got sick. Suddenly, the world where anything was possible, with enough love, hard work and faith in the future, went dark.  The last decade kicked the shit out of me...

This past weekend I had a rather enlightening experience. It really opened my eyes to what's been going on with me emotionally as of late. On Saturday evening my husband and I gathered our vices and went down to the hot tub. We were nothing more than two hardworking individuals anticipating a much-needed infusion of relaxation and rejuvenation. So he with his scotch and cigar, and me with my Dos Equis, settled in to watch the sunset and pretend we were on vacation, since it's usually the only time I imbibe with the sun still up.  Unfortunately, when we got down there, things started going wrong right away. The jets were broken, which was annoying. The Spotify app wasn't working correctly, and we immediately started bickering over which phone to hook up to our portable speaker, playlist to listen to, and song to enjoy, even though none of it was functioning. Mind you, as we launched into a full-fledged attack of, "I'm right, you're wrong," the sun was rapid...

I'm on a quest to learn how to survive my life. The circumstances surrounding my reality are just plain odd. Fibromyalgia, as far as disease profiles go, is just plain odd. And learning how to coax the two, my reality and my Fibro, into a cohesive life where I can actually accomplish something, well, that seems to be the insurmountable challenge. I realized my first mistake was too much expectation. After so many years in the exhaustive push-crash cycle this illness knows so well, I found myself able to push and...keep on pushing. Juicing was my salvation! Whatever copious amounts of veggies I was drinking had a profound affect on my health. With amazement I spent a few solid months barreling down the road of forward progress.  Then the train got derailed, as it frequently does, and for the life of me I can't get the damn train back on it's track! I'm determined, though. My biggest adversaries right now are expectation, anger and being uptight. And I really think the bi...

Monday was Fibromyalgia Awareness Day. For some reason this extremely important annual opportunity seems to habitually find me...not ready. Considering I spent the better part of the last two weeks falling apart and trying to put myself back together, May 12th once again flies past my woefully unprepared face with barely a blink of acknowledgement. It's horribly embarrassing and guilt-inducing, considering I've devoted so much of my life to advancing the cause. Or more precisely, at one time I devoted much of my life to advancing the cause. Right about now, at this point in the game, I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing. My heart was in the right place when I started The Fibromyalgia Crusade. Sadly, my life is still trying to get organized enough to carry out oodles of un-actualized intention. Perhaps it's good today sits on the other side of one of the worst spells of self-annihilation I've ever put myself through. Today, right now, I am clearly convinced anger...

I've spent the better part of the last week and a half trying to figure out what's going on with me. Today I finally got it. I don't know if my brain was too bogged up and convoluted with Fibro fog to see clearly, or if that big elephant called denial got in my way again. Perhaps it was a mixture of both, but whatever the culprit, now I can clearly see the spiral I'm barreling down is the result of my greed. See I've had tremendous progress over the last few months in stabilizing my symptoms, and improving both my functioning and quality of life. So much progress, Miss Type A stepped back into the drivers seat, and cracked her whip of expectation over every inch of my backside. Now my ass hurts too bad to sit down. Everything hurts, quite frankly, and feels confusing, scary and too big to deal with. I'm on the verge of losing some real advantage I worked my booty off to obtain. All because I got a moderate taste of not being a woman too sick to enjoy life. Once ...