Just Another Day . . . with my dear friend Fibromyalgia

I've had a rough go the last four or five days.  Lots of pain.  My coping strategy is to ignore it and just keep going.  Wes has come to understand that when I am busiest around the house, it is a sign of my discomfort.  He is so sweet because he does notice this and offers to take over whatever I happen to be cleaning or fixing.  He doesn't understand that I can't bear to go lay down as he suggests I do.  When I keep busy, I don't think about how I feel. The pain is kept at bay in the back of my mind as I focus on the tasks at hand. 

Business  usually works, but sometimes I fail to see that because of the pain I get rather snappy and short with my family.  I don't usually recognize what's going on until I lose my temper at someone.  Then, putting myself on time out in my room, I ask myself, "What is wrong with me?  That kid didn't do anything bad, why am I grousing at them?"  As I sit there feeling guilty, I suddenly realize that my head, neck, back, and especially legs are throbbing with pain.  I think about the pain.  It consumes me.  I'm on fire and under a steam roller.  There's not much I can do about the pain.  I want to fall into oblivion, become unconscious . . .but the likelihood of sleep is a far off dream.  The pain will go away with time. 

After 10 years of trying to figure out the what, where, when, and why of the pain, I still don't understand what triggers it.  At least not completely.  Sometimes I can prevent it--I avoid certain foods and try to stay away from crowded, noisy places (well--I don't really stay away, but I know that for two days afterwards I'm not going to feel well).  I exercise moderately and sleep regular hours.  All these things help, but none of them cure me.  Sometimes, inexplicably, I just hurt!

I can't fix the pain I have, but I can fix the pain I  cause.  I apologize to the child  (or to Wes) and explain to them that it wasn't their fault I was short-tempered and grumpy.  I tell them I hurt.  We talk.  We hug.

It is usually loud, wrestly-silly activities that cause me to snap.  But kids are kids, they need to be loud and wrestly and silly.  So sometimes when I hurt and they are energetic, I hide.  In my quiet room.  For a while.  They are learning that this doesn't mean I don't like them, but that I can't handle the activity and noise. 

Since I don't wrestle and chase, my favorite thing to do with my children is read to them.  We must have thousands of books under our belts that we've read together and I've turned my children into book addicts! The girls and I also like to color together.  It's fun that even Ryanne enjoys this.  She says it is "therapeutic."  We color fairies with colored pencils and gel-pens that my mom gave us.  Sometimes Leah and Elias play card games with me and sometimes I build towers of blocks with Elias.  Leah likes all kinds of crafts and lately we have been scrap-booking together: she does her pictures while I work on Elias's.

The hardest person for me to connect with is Mckay because he's really not into coloring, or playing cards, and he's too old for me to read to him (so he says, although he often sneaks near me when I am reading to Elias and Leah).  Being 13, Mckay is into loud, big, outdoor, action.  I'm still searching for something we can do together that he likes.  In the meantime, I feed him a lot and make him special snacks.  He likes that and I don't worry about it because he is a tall toothpick.  (He grew another inch and a half in the last month!!!  He's up to 5'7").

I used to worry so much that I wouldn't be a good enough mom because I couldn't do and be everything I thought I should be for my kids because of my fibromyalgia.  But I am watching them grow into understanding, forgiving, and very capable people.  They know how to work and to cook and to maintain a house.  They can take care of themselves and each other.  They are friends with each other.  They are willing to forgive.  They are tender and compassionate. They share my struggles with me and it has changed their lives as well as mine.  Sometimes it is very frustrating for all of us.  But we are growing together because of it. 


When I was first officially diagnosed with fibromyalgia I had a lot of anger and depression.  I even had a few moments of anger at the Lord.  I really didn't want to spend the rest of my life being held back from my goals and aspirations by some stupid, non-understood illness.  I wanted to run marathons, be a super-mom involved in everything, single-handedly change the world! (Just kidding).  I cried a lot.  I complained a lot to Wes.  I didn't really talk to anyone else about how I felt, but I had a good friend at that time who saved me.  She didn't know much about my fibro and I didn't say much. But she would come over and hold my babies and play with my children and talk.  She kept my mind on other things and helped me to find joy in my life the way it was.  She never judged me for all the things I wasn't getting done that I thought I should be getting done. 

I look back now and see how loving God was to send this friend into my life at just the right moment.  He knew what I needed then.  He still does. 

I have learned so much about myself because of my limitations.  My character has changed over the years.  I am continuously learning patience for myself and for others.  I learn not to judge, but to find out what peoples' stories are.  I have a much greater empathy and compassion.  I have learned to be happy with what I can do even though it doesn't seem like much compared to so many others I know. I am limited and I have come to be content with that (most of the time)!  Of course, all these things are a continuous work in progress within me, but I am learning and changing my very being because of this illness. 


And I really can't wait for the resurrection!