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.
Showing posts with label strength. Show all posts
Showing posts with label strength. Show all posts
Thursday, March 9, 2017
Wednesday, February 22, 2017
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!!
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!!
Thursday, January 14, 2016
Redefining Strenth
I, like nearly 10 million other Americans, suffer from Fibromialgia. My main symptoms are chronic pain and chronic nausea (the neausea is actually a by-product of the pain as that is how my body reacts to the stress of being in constant pain), and today was not a good day.
My pain level is usually around 3/4, but the last few days the pain has been steadily increasing. Like everyone else I know with Fibromialgia my pain levels ebb and flow, and my pain usually settles in my neck, back, and in recent years, my hips. There are good days and there are not so good days. Today has been a 'not so good day,' but like everyone else who lives with Fibromialgia or chronic pain, you learn to live with it. You go on with your life despite, or in spite of, the pain. Today was just another day, but I couldn't wait to go home so I could start alternating ice and heat to try to combat my symptoms. At my last job I was more open about it and wore ice packs and heating pads often, several people even knew about my Fibromialgia, but when I took a new job last year I decided to keep that part of my life private. In part this was due to going from a loud and busy office of almost 60 people, to a much smaller, more intimate office of only 10, and the other part was due to past experiences at my old job.
The pain got worse as the day went on and as usual the nausea got worse right along with it so I wasn't able to eat much, and even though I didn't have the stomach for breakfast (this is normal but I had actually vomited this morning which is not) I was only able to eat half of the sausage, egg and cheese biscuit I got at Starbucks on my way to a fitting I had scheduled on my lunch break for an upcoming play that I will be preforming in.
I have been lucky enough to perform in several plays at this theater so my size chart has several sets of measurements on it from all of the shows that I've done over the years, so it is really easy for me to see how my body has changed over time by looking over the chart. Thankfully, my measurements hadn't changed much since my last fitting- I was worried about this because at a previous fitting a few years ago I discovered that I had lost 2 inches from my bust and hips (my waist was unchanged) due to being consistently unhealthy due to an increase in my Fibromialgia symptoms. I was devastated and embarrased over the drastic changes my body had been through in a relatively short period of time. At that time, when I looked at myself in mirror I did not see a fit/thin young woman like everyone else (apparently) saw- I saw a sick person. When I looked at myself carefully I could see that skin was starting to sag in certain places from the rapid, unhealthy weight loss. I saw an overly-defined collarbone and inklings of my rib cage.
Like many women, I struggle with my weight and have body image issues. In this matter I tend to swim against the tide as most women seem to want to be thinner, while I, at the very least, struggle to maintain my weight, and have worked to gain weight on more than one occasion for both my doctors as well as myself. You can imagine what this has done to my mental health and stability.
During today's fitting, the costume designer Silvia, whom I know well enough now after all these shows, asked me how I manage to stay so thin, and I told her simply "chronic nausea." To which she replied, "that's terrible." Now at this point I had a choice to make in the conversation. I had chosen to be honest with Silvia about my condidtion and could have chosen to use this moment to get a little sympathy or encouragement, especially since I wasn't feeling well, but I try to be as positive as possible. I don't always succeed.
Like everything else, you have the power to change your attitude. Reacting to and facing negative situations with positivity and happiness makes you a more positive and happy person. They say you are actually rewiring your brain when you do this, and this was an opporunity to do just that, so I replied simply, "Yeah, but it could be worse," and the conversation naturally digressed onto other topics from there. We didn't talk any more about my symptoms, they didn't deserve the attention (especially not in this context).
I try to be very disiplined in regards to what I allow into my conciousness these days because I'm a very sensitive person and I know it affects my headspace- especially when it comes to music, movies and social media. Listening to upbeat music and engaging in uplifing positive stories and surrounding yourself with supportive people helps to give you the strength that you need to get through your day- especially when your day is not an easy one and you need all the help you can get. Conversely, I've found that listening to too much sad music, watching lots of dramas and depressing movies and complaining constantly will suck the strength to fight from you, and it's something I work on constantly and make pains to be aware of.
As the day went on the pain got worse, and as usual, so did the nausea. I took a Tramadol, the only pain medication they'll give me since perscription medications were reclassified last year, and as usual, it didn't work. As time went on my back muscles started to spasm. The nausea increased accordingly. At around 4:30pm, while I was sitting at my desk going through the mail, I got up to go to the bathroom because I knew I was going to throw-up again. This also, is normal. To keep things light when I talk about it I usually say I puke like a cocker spaniel, and to be honest, after all these years it doesn't even really bother me any more. I mean, I'd rather not- it sucks and it's gross, but it's the status quo: I'm usually nauseas, and sometimes I puke. That's just the way it is.
I didn't make it to the bathroom. I threw-up in my mouth in the hallway, but managed to keep it all in my mouth and not let too much of a reaction show on my face or in my body language. When I got to the bathroom I puked about 4-5 times, took a deep breath, washed out my mouth with some water, and went back to my desk with a smile on my face and carried out the rest of my shift as if nothing was wrong- just like I had all day. At 5:30pm I wished everyone a, "good night," and walked out the door to my car despite the fact that I had been a little late this morning and really should have stayed a bit longer to make up for it- but I also needed to take care of myself.
I like to think of myself as being mentally strong, and though I do have my moments, for the most part I am stronger than my pain, I am stronger than my nausea, I am stronger than Fibromialgia. I fight for myself every day, and I have learned more and more that strength needs to be refueled, that rest is necessary, and that knowing your limits is vital to survival. Focusing on positivity lately has also added to that strength. Not too long ago I would have felt a lot differently about today. Today wasn't a good day, but I got through it the best I could- frankly I think I did pretty well given how I was feeling physically. I'm not depressed or upset with my body, I'm focusing on healing it and trying to be positive about tomorrow while doing so.
Physical strength now... that's a completely different matter. For years now I've made it my practice to avoid too much physical activity despite the fact that I like to hike, dance and play sports etc., because if I over exert myself I'll most likely cause a Fibro Flare (an increase in my Fibromialgia symptoms) and I already have enough to deal with in that department thankyouverymuch. Because of this I don't have much muscle left on my already short and petite body, and often joke about my frailty and describe myself as a weakling. This is both unkind and untrue and fights against the positivity I've been focusing on by feeding the idea that I am weak- therefore I don't do physical things, and the cycle continues. It is time I recognize that cycle and use the same vigilence against the words I use to describe myself and the energy I create around myself that I use against the external stimuli and energy I surround myself with. To be fair, I've had this realization before, but I fall back into old habits time and time again.
This is somethig I have been thinking about a lot lately, something I have really been working on in the last few months. I've been telling myself my mental strength and my physical strength are the same. That I am capable of anything. That with the right shift in my attitude I can do anything. I can change my aversion to physical activities by being positive and focusing on happiness rather than worrying about causing a flare. I can acknowledge my physical limitations, be mindful and rest often, and focus on what I'm doing and that I like doing it. I can do more than what I'm currently doing, I don't have to be scared. I can be healthier, which will make me stronger both mentally and physically, which will (hopefully) ignite a perpertual cycle of positivity, health, and happiness.
I need to focus on redefining my strength. My strength is my mind, my ability to fight for myself every day and to get up and do it again even if I don't win. I am strong. I am powerful. And it's time I recognized that.
My pain level is usually around 3/4, but the last few days the pain has been steadily increasing. Like everyone else I know with Fibromialgia my pain levels ebb and flow, and my pain usually settles in my neck, back, and in recent years, my hips. There are good days and there are not so good days. Today has been a 'not so good day,' but like everyone else who lives with Fibromialgia or chronic pain, you learn to live with it. You go on with your life despite, or in spite of, the pain. Today was just another day, but I couldn't wait to go home so I could start alternating ice and heat to try to combat my symptoms. At my last job I was more open about it and wore ice packs and heating pads often, several people even knew about my Fibromialgia, but when I took a new job last year I decided to keep that part of my life private. In part this was due to going from a loud and busy office of almost 60 people, to a much smaller, more intimate office of only 10, and the other part was due to past experiences at my old job.
The pain got worse as the day went on and as usual the nausea got worse right along with it so I wasn't able to eat much, and even though I didn't have the stomach for breakfast (this is normal but I had actually vomited this morning which is not) I was only able to eat half of the sausage, egg and cheese biscuit I got at Starbucks on my way to a fitting I had scheduled on my lunch break for an upcoming play that I will be preforming in.
I have been lucky enough to perform in several plays at this theater so my size chart has several sets of measurements on it from all of the shows that I've done over the years, so it is really easy for me to see how my body has changed over time by looking over the chart. Thankfully, my measurements hadn't changed much since my last fitting- I was worried about this because at a previous fitting a few years ago I discovered that I had lost 2 inches from my bust and hips (my waist was unchanged) due to being consistently unhealthy due to an increase in my Fibromialgia symptoms. I was devastated and embarrased over the drastic changes my body had been through in a relatively short period of time. At that time, when I looked at myself in mirror I did not see a fit/thin young woman like everyone else (apparently) saw- I saw a sick person. When I looked at myself carefully I could see that skin was starting to sag in certain places from the rapid, unhealthy weight loss. I saw an overly-defined collarbone and inklings of my rib cage.
Like many women, I struggle with my weight and have body image issues. In this matter I tend to swim against the tide as most women seem to want to be thinner, while I, at the very least, struggle to maintain my weight, and have worked to gain weight on more than one occasion for both my doctors as well as myself. You can imagine what this has done to my mental health and stability.
During today's fitting, the costume designer Silvia, whom I know well enough now after all these shows, asked me how I manage to stay so thin, and I told her simply "chronic nausea." To which she replied, "that's terrible." Now at this point I had a choice to make in the conversation. I had chosen to be honest with Silvia about my condidtion and could have chosen to use this moment to get a little sympathy or encouragement, especially since I wasn't feeling well, but I try to be as positive as possible. I don't always succeed.
Like everything else, you have the power to change your attitude. Reacting to and facing negative situations with positivity and happiness makes you a more positive and happy person. They say you are actually rewiring your brain when you do this, and this was an opporunity to do just that, so I replied simply, "Yeah, but it could be worse," and the conversation naturally digressed onto other topics from there. We didn't talk any more about my symptoms, they didn't deserve the attention (especially not in this context).
I try to be very disiplined in regards to what I allow into my conciousness these days because I'm a very sensitive person and I know it affects my headspace- especially when it comes to music, movies and social media. Listening to upbeat music and engaging in uplifing positive stories and surrounding yourself with supportive people helps to give you the strength that you need to get through your day- especially when your day is not an easy one and you need all the help you can get. Conversely, I've found that listening to too much sad music, watching lots of dramas and depressing movies and complaining constantly will suck the strength to fight from you, and it's something I work on constantly and make pains to be aware of.
As the day went on the pain got worse, and as usual, so did the nausea. I took a Tramadol, the only pain medication they'll give me since perscription medications were reclassified last year, and as usual, it didn't work. As time went on my back muscles started to spasm. The nausea increased accordingly. At around 4:30pm, while I was sitting at my desk going through the mail, I got up to go to the bathroom because I knew I was going to throw-up again. This also, is normal. To keep things light when I talk about it I usually say I puke like a cocker spaniel, and to be honest, after all these years it doesn't even really bother me any more. I mean, I'd rather not- it sucks and it's gross, but it's the status quo: I'm usually nauseas, and sometimes I puke. That's just the way it is.
I didn't make it to the bathroom. I threw-up in my mouth in the hallway, but managed to keep it all in my mouth and not let too much of a reaction show on my face or in my body language. When I got to the bathroom I puked about 4-5 times, took a deep breath, washed out my mouth with some water, and went back to my desk with a smile on my face and carried out the rest of my shift as if nothing was wrong- just like I had all day. At 5:30pm I wished everyone a, "good night," and walked out the door to my car despite the fact that I had been a little late this morning and really should have stayed a bit longer to make up for it- but I also needed to take care of myself.
I like to think of myself as being mentally strong, and though I do have my moments, for the most part I am stronger than my pain, I am stronger than my nausea, I am stronger than Fibromialgia. I fight for myself every day, and I have learned more and more that strength needs to be refueled, that rest is necessary, and that knowing your limits is vital to survival. Focusing on positivity lately has also added to that strength. Not too long ago I would have felt a lot differently about today. Today wasn't a good day, but I got through it the best I could- frankly I think I did pretty well given how I was feeling physically. I'm not depressed or upset with my body, I'm focusing on healing it and trying to be positive about tomorrow while doing so.
Physical strength now... that's a completely different matter. For years now I've made it my practice to avoid too much physical activity despite the fact that I like to hike, dance and play sports etc., because if I over exert myself I'll most likely cause a Fibro Flare (an increase in my Fibromialgia symptoms) and I already have enough to deal with in that department thankyouverymuch. Because of this I don't have much muscle left on my already short and petite body, and often joke about my frailty and describe myself as a weakling. This is both unkind and untrue and fights against the positivity I've been focusing on by feeding the idea that I am weak- therefore I don't do physical things, and the cycle continues. It is time I recognize that cycle and use the same vigilence against the words I use to describe myself and the energy I create around myself that I use against the external stimuli and energy I surround myself with. To be fair, I've had this realization before, but I fall back into old habits time and time again.
This is somethig I have been thinking about a lot lately, something I have really been working on in the last few months. I've been telling myself my mental strength and my physical strength are the same. That I am capable of anything. That with the right shift in my attitude I can do anything. I can change my aversion to physical activities by being positive and focusing on happiness rather than worrying about causing a flare. I can acknowledge my physical limitations, be mindful and rest often, and focus on what I'm doing and that I like doing it. I can do more than what I'm currently doing, I don't have to be scared. I can be healthier, which will make me stronger both mentally and physically, which will (hopefully) ignite a perpertual cycle of positivity, health, and happiness.
I need to focus on redefining my strength. My strength is my mind, my ability to fight for myself every day and to get up and do it again even if I don't win. I am strong. I am powerful. And it's time I recognized that.
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