Fibromyalgia. I can’t remember when I had my first symptom… how old I was. Young… too young for a problem like this. For decades doctors blamed it on various things, when I was 10 it was “weak muscles”, at 18 it was “hyper-extending joints and overstressed ligaments” … I’ve been tested for everything – including Lupus. I can sometimes go a long time with no issues. Then it can sneak up on me when I least expect it. Much like a woman who experiences childbirth, you “forget” how it is – until it’s there again and then you tell yourself “Oh fuck, I remember this.”
I should have known it was coming. I have been under a lot of stress, which has been compounded. I should have realized when I had so many headaches last week (I blamed it on allergies) and was so exhausted just taking a shower or driving to my daughter’s house (was up late the night before each time) and my sleep schedule got all wonky (finding things to binge watch at midnight as an escape from stress). Then the bad dreams and unrestful sleep. I woke up yesterday with that familiar pain. Fire in the knees, stiff and painful joints, hip pain that feels like gnawing in the bones, back ache, neck ache, limbs not cooperating with my commands to move. Fuck… this is a bad one. Flare-ups can be mild or big and last from a day or two, to many months. At least the fog hasn’t completely set in yet…
Fibro fog is when your brain joins your body in deciding it doesn’t like you anymore. Simple words get lost. You try to have a conversation with someone and words you know can’t be found… hummingbird is gone and has to be replaced with fast moving midget bird. You can’t remember simple things – today I needed to submit a report and couldn’t remember which browser had the correct bookmark – checked them all and couldn’t find it… not remembering I have a folder for such things, it took 40 minutes and two different computers to figure it out. This is a report I do every month… there is the tab and the link… very frustrating.
You know it’s bad when you try to decide if your thirst is worth the effort of moving your body that far to get a Perrier. I am a big “mind over matter” type person. I have spent decades berating myself about this condition and trying to pep talk or force myself out of it. There is nothing you can do… you just have to ride it out and hope it won’t last very long this time. So here I sit… in bed… pins and needles all up and down my legs, burning hips and stabbing back pain, trying to distract myself. I did force myself to do the dishes with the promise I could take a nap afterward… but exhaustion without the ability to really sleep is real. Thank goodness no one is home with me yesterday or today. I always feel compelled to try and act “normal”. I don’t ever want someone feeling sorry for me or thinking I’m looking for attention or something – far from it… I want no one to see this. I wish instead of doing yard work last weekend, that I had gotten a massage instead… maybe I could have circumvented this bodily revolt.
Someone got angry with me once from a dating site because I had not disclosed this condition. Further shaming me into hiding… speaking of which, I joined one again yesterday. I haven’t had the energy to complete my profile or interact much yet. I wish I could have a refund… another bad decision. I just miss having a partner I suppose. Robert knew when I had a flare-up and he didn’t make me feel bad about it… he would run me a bath, lay in the bed with me… massaging my achy body parts, and distract me with Romcoms and snacks. Once when trying to apologize for my lack of being able to do stuff during a flare-up, he told me it kind of made him feel useful since I so rarely allow anyone to take care of me. I do not ask for help. It’s not who I am. I don’t mind when others do, but it feels bad to ask for it myself.
I have a regular doctor’s appointment on Tuesday. Hopefully, this will be gone by then. If not, maybe I will allow for some sort of medicine this time… but probably not – I hate the idea of being dependent on anything for my “normalness” … or it could be worse – what if I have trouble walking on Tuesday? I don’t belong on a dating site – what man would be willing to tolerate random incapacity? Again, I question my therapist’s decision… I should email her… tell her I’m so fucking resilient (as she used to say) my body has gone on strike leaving me stuck in bed in pain – how can I not be a fucked-up person who needs therapy? I really want a body that will cooperate with me… we have not regularly worked together in harmony for a long time…. We get in the groove sometimes with yoga, but I can’t even do any today. I’m too tired. I would order UberEats, but I would have to go all the way downstairs to the front door to get it… just the thought is exhausting.
I miss my dog. I miss my partner. I miss last week when I didn’t feel this bad.