Day 2...the numbness continues

Day two, I don't feel anything. Not happy, not sad...just nothing. Late last night, I got angry. My husband posted a joking picture on FB and I exploded when I saw it. It wasn't meant as anything...I rationally know that, but I lost it and posted a not very nice response to this picture. In his words...I publicly castrated him. I deleted the comment I made very soon afterwards and apologized to him, but I just lost it. I've even had to go so far as deleting this image from my FB news feed so I won't even have to look at it. I think I prefer the current numbness to the raving lunatic I turned into last night. But now...we're back to numbness.

My husband is worried about me. I understand that. But this is how I'll get at times, dealing with the pain. Dealing with my daily stress. My mind just says, "that's enough, we're shutting down for the day", and this is what I end up with...numb. Well, until I get angry about something...then I really get angry. Then maybe I'll cry...then numb again. Maybe this will last for a day...a week...I don't know. The joys of depression from chronic pain. I wouldn't wish this life on my worst enemy.

I wish I could keep this part of me away from my loved ones, but I don't think that's possible. Eventually, as my husband is just now finding out, I will break and fall apart. He's desperately trying to help me, I know this. We will have a wonderful life together...but no matter how wonderful everything is around me...I'm still in pain. That will never stop, never give me a break. No matter what...it will always be my constant companion. Which makes me feel alone, because I can't fully explain this to anyone. They aren't in the constant pain I'm in...how on earth could I even expect them to understand. In my life, in my pain...I am completely and utterly alone, regardless of how many people are physically around me.

How do I explain this to someone I love with all my heart, but know they'll never really understand?

Emotionally Numb

If you ask me how I feel right now...the only answer I have is nothing. Emotionally, I feel absolutely nothing. So what does this mean? My mind/body has hit the massive brick wall of stress. I've shut down because I cannot deal with any more. Our mind is a funny thing I suppose; emotionally I'm numb, physically my body is on fire. Why can't my mind give my body a little of this numbness? I would like to be able to cry, but I can't. How the hell am I going to get my feelings back? Maybe I'll meditate on this little problem and some great and powerful wisdom will reach through the ether of time and space and give me an answer. And while they're at it...a cure for fibro. That would be nice to.

I wish I had a healthier reaction to my stress...but no...lets repress and block it all from the mind, and then stab a million red hot pokers all over the body. Yeah...now that sounds like a good time. You've gotta just love the irony there. But, at least I'm not having a nervous breakdown...yet. Gotta keep your eye on the positive, because my life is getting tossed around like one of my dogs toys when he really gets it into himself to utterly thrash it. And all I can think of...what's next?

Kids and fibro...am I a good mother?

I've seen many comments recently on mother's feeling like they aren't good mother's because of their pain conditions. It keeps us from running and playing with our kids; we can't even begin to try and keep up with them. Many days are spent resting in bed or on the couch. Maybe ten minutes of activity here or there, but we feel inadequate as mothers. But the truth is, we shouldn't. The mere fact that you ask yourself if you are a good mother makes you a good mother. You're willing to take an honest look at yourself. That's a leg up on all the women in this world who feel fine each and every day, and rather than use their health to be with their kids, rather than being grateful that they can run and play with their kids, they push them off on anyone else so they can do other things. I would much rather be the mother I am right now than one of those. Yes, our abilities are different. Yes, we have to severely limit what we physically do, but physical activity is not what we cherish most about our parents as we get older. We cherish the words, the time, the love. Those things are not attached to physical movement, they come from deep within us. The part of us that can't be touched by pain. The part of us that would give their life to save that of our children, to insure they are happy and healthy every day of their lives.

We are good mothers by our words of love to our kids, by the time we spend with them regardless of what we are doing, and by our attitude towards our life and health. The greatest gift we can give our children is to love and care for their mother because we are the only one they will ever have. No one will ever take our place in their hearts. Regardless of our physical abilities, we set an example for our children by who we are as people each and every day. Love yourself. Care for yourself. Be patient with yourself. Be grateful for every day you have that you can tell your children you love them. Be honest with them. They can understand far more than we think they can. I can guarantee every mother who suffers from this disease, your children will love you in spite of your medical conditions. They will see you for who you are deep within your heart and soul. Just don't shut them out.

We are amazing mothers, capable of amazing feats and strengths that far exceed that of the average mother because of our conditions. And we are raising amazing kids who will learn through us to be loving and empathetic to all human beings regardless of their physical abilities. This is a life lesson we are uniquely suited to teach, which makes each of us one of the best mothers on this earth.

Fibromyalgia

 

I was diagnosed with fibro about a year ago, but my symptoms have been coming on for the last 5 years. I'm on long-term disability because of the severity of my daily pain. I miss the girl I used to be. She was a dancer. She danced professionally in a tribal bellydance troupe, did fire dancing, latin/ballroom dancing, yoga, pilates and zumba every week. She would exhaust people just telling them what her weekly schedule looked like. But then something happened and everything changed. Her body betrayed her and she died; I was born in her place. I weight 50lbs more than she did, my hair is frizzier, my memories are a little worse for wear so I keep my notebook on me at all times. I can't stay active like she did. I'm lucky if I can take a long walk to just keep my muscles moving. I tried to keep working, but as my pain levels increased, everything I used to be able to do slowly faded into a misty, depressing memory. I'm now on long-term disability which will run out this October. I'm trying to take stock of how I feel right now. Do I think I'm capable of handling a regular work schedule? No. Do I think my pain levels are/will decrease in the near future? No, they have been slowly increasing in level. But because of the stigma surrounding my diagnosis, do I have the right to request permanent disability? Is it right? Half the medical profession doesn't seem to take it seriously, so how can I say that I don't feel like I can or will be able to work in the future when the medical profession still sees FMS as a "fake" disease, only in the head of the patient.

Thoughts, feelings, comments, advice? I'd be interested in seeing them.

Thanks and Blessed Be!
Cali