My Morning Story - TGIF!!!

IT'S FRIDAY! WE MADE IT!

And omg you guys I am soooooooooooooooo tired, like, if my apartment wasn't going to be sprayed for bugs today I would have seriously contemplated staying home and sleeping for like 10 hours because I know I need it... but I also am so close to finishing a big Etsy order so I am in an all-go-no-quit mode as well- life is strange when you have fibro and a type-A personality, lol.

My morning story: I set my alarm for earlier than usual because as mentioned my apt is being sprayed for bugs today so I had to make sure all the last minute stuff was covered in sheets and put away, and last night I tuckered myself out packing up the last of the stuff I was in DESPERATE need of a shower (my hate of showers and lack of energy means my last real shower was sunday night- but don't worry, I did take two whore baths to try to keep it cute between now and then bc I'm a classy broad, lol) but I literally couldn't get out of bed for over an hour despite lying on tennis balls all week to try to work my shit out, I mean, I was working on my Etsy order after already working a full shift but whatever, I was using ice and heat too (also, twiggy cuddles didn't help my motivation at all, especially knowing she was going to be mad about being locked up for day-boarding and I was feeling guilty about it, not gonna lie).

Once I finally made myself get up and go to the bathroom I had to lie on the bathroom floor for a while, thank god for soft rugs! Then I was finally able to start putzing around the house and getting stuff together and covered, then it was a super quick body shower (hair will be washed this weekend - sorry not sorry), change and get twiggs to get in her traveler cage, which she hates (cue mom guilt again) and then it was out the door!

And of course, in my rush I forgot my phone and I can't go get it bc poison. 😂😂 then I got to work and there were login issues, printer issues, etc. - i'm almost done with my first cup of coffee though, so things are looking up!

Have a great friday y'all, and I hope your morning was easier than mine!

Having Your Limitations Discussed Out Loud Isn't Fun You Guys

So I spent most of my 20s as a burlesque dancer, and stopped a few years ago because 1) the pain and fibro fog were getting really bad and the troupe was getting more popular and keeping up with the schedule was getting too difficult, and 2) my ex (who I was with at the time) wasn't in love with the idea of a burlesque dancer helping to raise his son or have pics of me in costume/lingerie on the internet (ugh, right?).

I still go back and dance occasionally because I love it, but I also know that I'm not as good as I once was- my extensions aren't as good, my flow isn't as clean, etc.- and most of this is because of pain and the new limitations my body has, and part is because I just don't dance often as I used to.

Anyway, I had someone tell me they could see the difference in how I used to dance and how I executed an old routine on friday - and it kind of broke my heart a little. They meant well, like 'when you watch your routine, you gave great face, but..." and then they pretty much told me all about how my physical limitations made my routine not quite as good as it used to be.

Needless to say, as excited as I was to perform an old classic solo again, especially because it was our 10 year anniversary show so it was kind of a big night with the majority of 10 years of a burlyfamily in the house, I wasn't able to watch my performance until sunday morning because I was scared I'd watch it and just judge myself more harshly than usual and only think of how good it could have been, 'if only fibro wasn't my life,' but I'm trying not to let this whole thing get me down too much... I can't change anything and I'm doing the best I can... but damn guys, that hurt. It's one thing to watch yourself and judge yourself, but it's another thing to have someone straight up be like "you used to be better, here are some specific examples" and me having to go, "so basically you could see my fibromyalgia in my solo" and watch them have the lightbulb moment that made them say, "yeah!" Ouch. Ouch. Ouch. Ouch.

Letting go of what you used to be able to do, what people expect of you... that may be the worst part of fibro- learning about and teaching others about the 'new you' can be really hurtful sometimes 😥

Moving on After An Abusive Relationship in a Digital Age

Thanks to Facebook's 'On This Day' feature, we get bombarded daily by memories of our past- some good, some bad- and while you can block certain "people" from appearing in these notifications, you can't stop the pain that comes when pictures appear in your timeline that remind you of said persona non grata.

*If you know how to do that, contact me IMMEDIATELY!!*

For example, when I realized I was recovering from an abusive relationship in which I was gaslighted and that, actually, some of the things I was experiencing were actually symptoms of PTSD and not just run-of-the-mill anxiety, I quickly blocked my ex from this feature to protect the person who was trying to grow out of broken person I was at the time.

(Fun fact, before therapy I thought this was just a "normal" toxic relationship, albeit a bad one; in therapy, I realized just how far the rabbit hole went- and that was a bit of a mind fuck, to be honest.)

After I learned that anything connected with my ex would trigger my PTSD, I not only blocked him on facebook but I also gave up as many associations as I could that reminded me of him as quickly as I could. Since that relationship 'officially' ended two years ago, I've pretty much changed EVERYTHING. One of the first things I did was I got a new wallet and credit cards because he made me do most of the shopping for our home and I couldn't even look at things that represented that old life anymore. Over time I've updated my wardrobe, found new places to eat, got a different dentist, got a different job- I mean I've been changing EVERYTHING in my life to distance myself from him and the feelings that come along with him, and I've been pretty successful for the most part, but the success came from the work I put in, and that's an important point.

That being said, over the last month and a half I've been seeing certain pictures from 4 years ago pop up that remind me of him, but aren't "of him," such as pictures of me moving into his place, pictures of me and his kid, pictures of the dog we got together, etc. - so it's been... interesting. I'm happy to say that my triggers are in no way as strong or as in control of my emotions as they were two years ago, and I think I get stronger every day, but still... it's not easy to look at how happy you were when you thought someone was "the one" - especially when those images are just pushed on when you didn't want them or ask for them - and today was especially interesting, because today is the day that the world changed. Four years ago today, he showed me his real colors, and I began to see who he really was rather than who he was pretending to be. Granted, it took another two years before I was able to leave and stay gone, but that's a whole other story.

Now part of me likes this feature because some memories are great, and seeing how far I've come, no matter how painful it is, is nice, if I'm being honest. Today, my first reaction when I saw those posts and remembered what went down and how it was the beginning of the end for the person I was and the life I was living, was pride. Pure pride - go me! #itgetsbetter and I'm living proof! But another small part of me was like, that's it, final straw, delete the feature - how dare you force me to remember my past, especially when I was doing so well moving on! Rude! And it made me think that, as hard as is it to get over a breakup, especially if it was an abusive relationship, how much more difficult is it in this digital age! You have to not only get over someone emotionally, but you also have to go through the effort of cleansing your online profile too- you delete old posts, old pics, because you can't have your new beau find pics of your ex and you when you were together online or he'll think you're not over it, etc. etc. etc. - how exhausting! Some people find this cleansing I'm sure, but this is your life you're deleting here- good or bad, it happened. Think about it- how many vacation pics do you have that you can't post because an ex is in it? I mean, why deny it, at that time you were with someone else, and in some cases, especially after a significant amount of time, it's not a big deal-  but then sometimes it is.

I'm not saying we need a 'eternal sunshine of a spotless mind' real life or online option (although it'd be nice to have the option, not gonna lie) but it does make you think - if everything you post is going to come back to haunt you, would you still post it? If you had to watch a parade of all the decisions you've made, would you still make them? Are you strong enough to survive your past? Have you made peace with the fact that your past does not dictate your future, and are therefore safe from such musings? Or are you still drowning in the ocean of your past and therefore overly susceptible to any reminders of past hurts? Should we take an emotional stability test before we're allowed to have this feature enabled? (No, but really though.) Or, perhaps, is it simply that we've changed how we experience the world ("it didn't happen unless it ends up online") and are therefore bombarded by our past more than we used to be, and therefore see more pain and have a harder time allowing our emotional wounds to heal?

Just something I'm thinking about...

Why Moving is Different When you Have Fibromyalgia

Moving sucks. There is no way to slice it. The packing, the taping, the hair pulling while moving around boxes to make room for more boxes, hauling your stuff from place to place, unpacking, trying to figure out which box “that one thing” is in, and more often than not, living out of boxes for longer than any human really should because in the end you usually give up on unpacking at least once before you’re done. Now imagine you suffer from chronic pain and you have to deal with all this with a body that may or may not be up to the task.

Unfortunately, the unpleasantness of large tasks such as moving are compounded for those of us living with a chronic condition like Fibromyalgia. The long hours and mental/physical stress of the process can trigger our already active symptoms, cause them to 'flare-up' and possibly even trigger other symptoms on top of what you already deal with on the daily- thus making an already arduous process overwhelmingly difficult.

It’s important for the able-bodied community to understand that daily life is harder with fibro, but it’s also important to explain that completing a mounting, physically intensive task is harder for us too. This is not a pity party; this is real talk. During times like this we need may need extra help, because no matter how carefully we plan for something like a move – there are always contingencies. Things happen that we may not have planned for, or we may get overwhelmed mentally and/or physically, and in the end, not matter how much we may want to, we may or may not be able to handle these things on our own- and it’s important for the people in our life to understand why.

Like a lot of people living in high rent markets like Orange County, CA, I move almost every year as rent prices increase, so it's not like moving is a new process for me, but it's still daunting. Perhaps even more so because I know EXACTLY what I’m getting into as I do this as often as I do (and I also have A LOT of stuff I’m not willing to part with [mostly books, heavy, heavy books]). Add to that with my *real* fear over-exerting myself (because it usually leaves me in incredible pain and exhausted and useless and bedridden (and depressed) for days afterwards. Thanks fibro.) and the thought of moving is pretty scary.

I mean, let’s face it, the beginning/middle/end of a move is not a great time to be bedridden for a few days, especially if you can’t afford much help (if any), and/or don’t have a great support system and have to manage the process all on your own. Plus, even if you do have a good support system, oftentimes moving a lot means you’ve already called in all your favors in regards to asking people to help you move; and when you have a chronic pain condition, you can’t exactly return the favor, and it doesn’t seem fair to keep asking the same people to help you when you can’t help them in return, even if they do “understand you need the help.”

So where does that leave us? Those of us struggling with expensive chronic conditions in expensive rent markets who may or may not have enough help. People with chronic pain conditions struggle with the line between doing “too much” and “not enough” as, as previously mentioned, too much exertion can lead to our symptoms worsening, but you also have to get done everything that needs to get done. It's a catch-22.

So, FYI, I just finished moving. Again. I gave myself more than a month to prepare, thought I’d be able to have everything boxed and ready to go, was so sure I gave myself enough time to do it all in, and got enough people to help me- but then Fibro happened. As usual.

I  had originally planned to do my move in two consecutive Saturdays. Each Saturday I’d have a few (different) friends to help me do a day of moving, and I’d have a week in-between to move some small things on my own and recover enough to be able to do a full day of moving again the following week. Unfortunately, that plan went to shit and I ended up having to call movers last minute to help me because my body just couldn’t do it.

It’s never easy to handle, your body betraying you, but living with this condition for 17 years has taught me to pivot. If something doesn’t work, try something else (please note: this does not mean I can pivot with grace or without crying or whining [maybe that ability will come later?]). When you have to make it work, you have no choice but to find a way to make it work. So if that means calling in favors you might feel terrible about asking for because you don’t feel like you can repay them, then that’s what it means. If that means you have to put the price of a moving truck and movers on your credit card and figure out how to pay for it later, then that’s what it means. If it means doing it all yourself and taking a week off to recover (assuming you can afford to take the time off and/or have vacation days available), then that’s what it means.

All that being said, the next time someone with Fibromyalgia or any chronic condition mentions something major coming up- like an upcoming move for example- know that there is a lot more going on for them than there would be for an able-bodied person. You may not see them for a while as they focus on or recover from their task. They may ask for a favor, or even several favors, but instead of getting annoyed, try to exercise some empathy and understand why. Maybe even take it a step further and offer your services in regards to packing, comparing moving quotes, or offer to pick up their groceries or make them dinner so they can conserve energy- there are an infinite number of ways you can help, and the proactive nature of your offer may help ease some of the guilt of asking for favors, or help ease some of the anxiety they may be facing at such a time, and I can guarantee you it will make the person feel supported- which is EPIC.

Obviously, you can help out your differently-abled friends at any time, and I feel like people know that help may be especially welcome during a symptom flare-up, but I wanted to say also that help is welcome during busy times as well. Even just asking how things are going, letting them vent, whatever- any little thing like that makes such a difference to a chronic pain sufferer because it shows you GET IT when so many people don’t, and living in a world where people may not or believe in your pain or understand your needs is almost as exhausting as living with a chronic pain condition.

I hope reading this made you a little more aware of what life with Fibro/chronic pain is like, and how you can be a supportive ally to us. 

Thanks for reading!

This Means I'm Strong, Right?

Today, I feel TERRIBLE. I got in a car accident last week that produced a flair that makes me want to fold over, crumple on the floor, and stay there. FOREVER. I'm weak, in a hell of a lot of pain (like, Vicodin and Soma ain't working kind of bullshit level pain so you stop taking pills because why kill your liver for no reason and just take it  like a woman), and yet here I am- at work.

I'm lucky enough to have an office job that allows me some flexibility regarding my daily start and end hours (as long as I work 40 hours a week) so if I need a little extra time in the morning I can take it. Where I can sit and do menial tasks when I don't feel up to do doing Boss Lady level work, but how long will I be able to hold this down? What about the other people with Fibromyalgia who aren't so lucky? Who are sentenced to poverty because their syndrome doesn't allow them to work a normal job and disability benefits are laughable, if you can qualify for them that is.

I know self-care is important, but with chronic illness, where do you draw the line? I have always been passionate about being able to eat and pay my bills, and to do that- you have to work. But I am also learning that pushing yourself too hard will only set you back - and I feel like this puts me between a rock and a hard place. So you find something that gives you balance and you think - god damn I am SLAYING IT, until the next flare knocks you on your ass, but the ability to keep going makes you strong, right?

I'm sure if I thought about this while feeling "well" (or my version of 'well' anyway), I would be less pessimistic. More proud of my accomplishments. Better able to express the intricacies of your relationship with responsibilities vs. self-care, but I'm thinking about this now, while I feel like utter and complete shit, and this is what I've got. Now I have to read old posts I and others have written that celebrate the challenges of living with something like Fibromyalgia, something that never goes away and will never get better and how it made them better people. How it made them realize how strong they were and how they are better people because of their struggles. Because crumpling on the floor and staying there forever isn't necessarily an option.

Car Crash + Fibromyalgia = Fibro Flare

I recently got into a minor car accident, nothing major, nothing that needed reporting, and at the time I felt fine. Well, no different than usual. But as the days went on I slowly got more and more sore, felt more and more pain, had less and less energy.

At first I didn't think anything of it, when your days are filled with pain all day every day it's hard to tell if the pain you're feeling is new, or significant. (Which is a problem in and of itself, but a topic for another day.) After almost a week of, "why am I getting worse?" and "ugh, I feel like I got hit by a car," it finally hit me- girl, you did get hit by a car! Your body got shaken up, and now you're paying for it, thanks Fibro!

It's sometimes hard to remember that with Fibro, the smallest bump or fall can trigger a flare or an 'episode' of increased symptoms, especially if you've been feeling relatively decent for a while. You sometimes forget that you're not a "normal" human and things are different for you. Some people can get in minor car accidents or fall down and not be practically bed-ridden for weeks, I however, cannot. Getting banged up/hurt, over-exerting myself, not respecting my boundaries (both physically and emotionally) will trigger a Fibro Flare.

Sometimes I literally hold myself back from doing tasks that may cause a flare, but you can't live your life holding yourself back- and sometimes things literally change lanes and hit you when you least expect it, so realistically, no matter what you do, you're between a rock and a hard place when it comes to Fibromyalgia. It's just a super fun pain roller coaster that you get to ride. Woohoo!

Struggling with Fibromyalgia (While Trying to Re-Build Myself)

The last few years have been particularly difficult. I have been living with Fibromyalgia for 16 of the 30 years I have been on this earth, and the last two years have been some of the worst Fibro-years I have ever experienced.

While I am used to chronic pain, flare ups, hot and cold flashes (just to name a few), as well as the chronic nausea and IBS that is my body's natural response to the stress of the aforementioned symptoms- I am also used to feeling well enough to do fun and exciting things from time to time. Not all the time (let's not get crazy), but occasionally I'd be able to take a dance or a yoga class, or go to an amusement park or a museum and not feel like putting one foot in front of the other was a daunting chore that would leave me as nothing but an exhausted shell, YAY! Lately however, respite from my symptoms has been both evasive and fleeting, and I have far more bad days than good days. Most of the time I find it hard to do simple chores, like keeping my home clean; even simple tasks, like showering, cooking and eating- these things are a struggle for me more often than not. While I feel lucky in the fact that despite my lately exaggerated symptoms I am still able to hold down my office job, not having the energy to do anything beyond the 9-5 has been depressing- which doesn't help break the cycle I find myself in.

Perhaps this... difficult phase? has to do with the fact that I am literally re-building myself. Every major relationship I've ever been in has used my desire for a family of my own as a weapon against me and it's taken it's toll. My first "real" boyfriend was a persona non grata to my Father's side of the family, so of course I fell head-over-heals in love with him. Unfortunately, he wanted me to marry him and live on base with him (as in a military base on the other side of the country) where we would start our family and I'd have a new family and we'd live happily ever after. Unfortunately this would have effectively cut me off from my entire support system, and with him being on active duty (he was in Kuwait, Afghanistan, and Iraq for most of our time together, and this was right after 9/11 so there was a lot going on over there at the time) I would have been alone more often than not (or parenting alone depending on when we had kids). Luckily, I was able to see that this wasn't the life for me and eventually ended the relationship.

My second love also told me he wanted to marry me and that he wanted to start a family with me- unfortunately only the first part of that statement was true. After living together for more than 9 months (you know, after he declared his wishes for our future together), he came home and he was... different. Not long after coming home that night he told me that he lied to me about wanting kids. He knew how much I wanted them and had said what he needed to say to "keep me," thinking one day he would change his mind about not actually wanting children. Well, apparently he came to terms with the fact that he didn't actually want children and the guilt finally made him come clean. He told me all this in a bit of a rush- then asked me to stay with him even though he knew from the very beginning all those years ago that I wanted to be a mother. You know when people ask you in Kindergarten what you want to be when you grow up? I said I wanted to be a Mom- and he knew that, and he did what he did anyway. Needless to say, I moved out as soon as I could.

The third and last time I fell in love was a complete shit show. Apparently my need for a family of my own made me an easy target for someone who was looking for someone to mind their child (he had a son whom he saw almost every day and who stayed with with him often) and their home - and more specifically- someone that they could control. Needless to say I was completely gaslighted. Before I moved in, he was the best boyfriend I'd ever had. Not only was he the most conscientious, courteous man I'd ever met, but we were so aligned on so many things that being with him felt so easy and so right- more right than anything I'd ever known; so with minimal persuasion and much enthusiasm I agreed to move in after only a few months of dating. Of course after I moved in and made the mistake of not being the perfect woman that he wanted me to be, things got toxic, then emotionally abusive with a few violent episodes thrown in for good measure. (To be clear, he never hit me, which is why I failed to identify the abuse for what it was for so long, but he would have the occasional... outburst.... that didn't make me feel safe. These outbursts happened mostly when fights got particularly escalated and, specifically, when I refused to back down).

I don't know if anyone reading this has ever had someone take them apart and create a completely different person without their being aware of what was happening, or if anyone has ever lost themselves in a relationship, or made to feel small, or scared, or like nothing they said or did was right or good enough and what they remembered quite clearly wasn't actually correct, but that's what happened to me with him. (I honestly hope you can't relate.) I looked up one day and found myself isolated both physically and emotionally. Wedges had been driven into all my important relationships, I was constantly uneasy and ruled by anxiety. Additionally, I was often angry, irrationally so, and felt like I couldn't talk to anyone about what was happening at home. I became someone I didn't like, and there were consequences to my anxiety-filled actions which made me even more anxious, and even more unlikeable to myself. I was someone I did not recognize, someone my old self would probably scoff at, mock, and pity, but definatly not understand or respect. Why would you let someone do that to you? Don't you see what's happening? Well, the answer was no, no I didn't. I had no idea most of what has happening was actually happening. And while I had a few people ask me those questions (probably verbatim), I still didn't see what was happening, not all of it anyway. I knew it was toxic (though I had grossly understated how much so to everyone, including myself), but something in me couldn't let go. Even though I moved, I moved right back when he "convinced me he had changed." (Note to self: not taking the time to identify and process your emotions, giving more chances than you know you should, and continually de-valuing your self-worth turns you into the worst version of yourself. Try not to do that again, xoxo)

To make matters more complicated, this was not the first time I'd been manipulated, or even strongly manipulated in my lifetime. There have been more than a few people over the years who have taken advantage of my willingness to believe the best in people- that they are capable of personal growth and change, although this is the first time I was manipulated on such a grand scale. Let's take it back: after a few tumultuous childhood years that involved A LOT of people pleasing, I told myself I would never let other people tell me how to feel, and that I would not do things because other people wanted me to. Admittedly, this mantra lead to more than a few years of juvenile/adult rebelliousness and a strong jaded feeling as side-effects of some slightly zealous over-correction which gave me a bit of a hard outer shell, but it is what it is. (I'm a work in progress, okay?)

Despite my efforts, I have failed at resisting the urge to people-please time and time again over the years- obviously. Apparently there is still a big gooey center hidden in that hard outer shell that simply refuses to die. In my defense, for the most part, before HIM, I was fairly good at identifying this trait and caught on to my people-pleasing antics early on and was able to correct them before things got out of hand. I still have (it's a struggle, okay?) a proclivity to be "on" when I'm out in the world, to hide behind a mask. Now though, I'm better able to take breaks from the facade of 'the girl who is happy and confident because that is how you want her to be because dealing with a person who is struggling is too much for most people' because I know my soul craves to be itself and live its Truth- even if the world finds that kind of person too 'difficult' to deal with most of the time.

As a lot of people know, hiding is exhausting, and no one should live their lives hiding in a closet afraid for the world to know who they are, and with this most recent chapter of my life closed, I was more resolved than ever to be my most authentic self.

So, with a history of a slightly bendable personality and a newly devastated sense of self, I started my life away from HIM. Of course, he still kept in touch. I mean, what psychopath wouldn't want to keep me under his influence/power for as long possible, right? I'm sorry to say that I accepted, perhaps even encouraged the post-mortem communication for a while I because I thought the break-up was as difficult for him as it was for me... of course that was until I learned that he was dating someone- someone I knew, someone we had had dog/kid play dates with when we were together- while he was still talking to me. This particular revelation was a crucial step in my journey and ability to start seeing through his manipulative behavior and understand what his real intentions towards me were, exactly what had happened to me during that relationship, and eventually, to cut him out of my life completely.

(Tangent: It is also worth sharing that his new conquest is being treated exactly the same way he treated me. I know this for a fact because she reached out to me and we talked about it. She expressed her wish that I was more forward about his behavior while we were together, and I felt a lot of guilt about that for a long time. Would she be with him if I was open about his character and she knew the truth? I don't know if it would have changed her mind about dating him in the first place, but I do know that she is now engaged to him and I no longer feel that guilt. She is aware of what she is getting herself [and her son] into, but like me, she was looking for a family, a father for her son, and his hooks are in her TIGHT. I hope she breaks the engagement, and that next time, I am open about a person's true identity. In the meantime, I have to let that shit go, the past is the past.)

Armed once again with my independence, I started the messy process of rebuilding myself. I read tons of articles on break-ups and toxic relationships and started reading self-help and girl-power books. It was during this period that I discovered the term "gaslighting" and realized just how deep the rabbit hole really went and how lucky I was to get out.

Healing and personal growth continues, and it has been a long and arduous journey, as it always is. I'm sure what I've shared is a large contributing factor in the exacerbation of my symptoms, stress, depression and anxious thoughts don't help anyone, and it takes energy to battle your demons- and let's not forget that your demons aren't the only things you're fighting!- and all of that A LOT to manage. Or try to manage. Or pretend to "manage" when really you're really just eating junk food alone in your room, watching Netflix and pretending that the world doesn't exist (let's be real- you ain't gotta lie to kick it!).

I know eventually this rough patch will end and I'll be a better person when I come out the other side, but I am struggling. I am struggling to get through the daily grind, I am struggling to remember to look up and look at the big picture, and I'm struggling to keep my mindset focused on the positive rather than the negative. So this is me, telling my story (parts of it), as a reminder that I'm strong, I've been through some shit, and I'm still fighting (like a boss!). I'm reminding myself to pick my head up and look around every once in a while because while I have a long way to go, I've come a long way already, and that's something to be proud of, not ashamed of. I am a warrior. I fight for myself every day, and it's exhausting, and it's a struggle, but I'm STILL GOING, and that's something to celebrate, not something to hide. So here's to me - YOU GO GIRL!!