The Anger Inside

I accidentally put sunscreen so close under my eyes that my eyelashes picked it up and deposited it in my eyeballs. So I proceeded to squint and blink my way through stinging, blurry vision for most of the morning until I finally started going so crazy I doused my eyes in water. But it was too late. By the time sat down to start writing I was already pissed off and fidgety and distracted. The kernel of anger sitting inside my stomach started pushing anxiety into my limbs. I started obsessing on everything I need to get done, which is a lot. Then I got mad over how late in the day it was and how little I'd already accomplished. This led me to fixate on how many things are wrong with my life, which is ginormous. Next, the bucking panic over the fact that this shattered, shambled semblance of reality is actually my earthly existence started to take over.

It's my daily fork in the road. Or at least every other day, so it seems. I've found if I squash my perception of what's real and intently focus on doing something to improve my circumstances, like writing my book or juicing, I can actually kinda skip over the complete freak-out threatening to suck me down. By now I know the physical symptoms of the flare will come tomorrow. And in a few days I'll once again look out the window of my life to see blue skies and rainbows. Hopefully I can get a few days in before the viscous cycle starts all over again. 

Except if I indulge that anger. That anger is so huge, so all-consuming, so tremendous that if I give it one second of credence it's all I can see, do or feel for days on end. I become so self-destructive to my own life it's actually not an indulgence I'm allowed any longer. I've had two bad flares the last two weeks. After a few months of doing pretty well I have to ask myself what's going on? That's when it hit me. I've been indulging my anger. Accepting that this is indeed my life, and getting to the point where I can ride out this cycle without reacting, is one of the hardest things I've ever done. It's also the only way I've moved my life forward. So I'm taking a deep breath, rejoicing that it's 2 PM, not 4 PM, and focusing all my attention on something that improves my circumstances. After four years, it's high time I finished this book. 

Thanks for joining,
Leah

#fibromyalgia #fibro #chronicillness #chronicpain #anger #coping          

Popular posts from this blog

Waiting On the World to Care

The Greatest Pretender

The Luxury of Sick