Free Write: Pain

I often turn to writing when I’m upset. I don’t like using this blog as a platform for heralding my woes, so I try to keep the negative stuff in check. Tonight, though, I’m just going to write.

Tonight I am in pain. I wasn’t sure I’d even be able to type this out because my arms and hands were hurting so badly a few minutes ago. I have an icky headache. I’m used to having headaches, always seem to have one in fact, but sometimes they are really bothersome. I’m nauseated for unknown reasons. I feel like someone beat me up and left me for dead. One of my favorite books, Elantris by Brandon Sanderson, features a state of living in which you the characters become un-dead, for lack of a better phrase. One morning they wake up, only to discover that their hair has fallen out and their skin is blotchy and sick looking. While in this state, any damage done to their bodies remains, unhealed, indefinitely. They feel the pain from every cut, bruise, or break – it never goes away, just drives them insane. I think Brandon Sanderson was describing fibromyalgia (he just didn’t realize it), because that’s how I feel so often. No matter how much rest I get, I wake up with a maxed out credit card that I have to keep charging because my bank account is empty. All the little things I do in life just add and add and add, each bringing wear and tear and ultimately pain. It’s maddening. I wanted to get a bachelor’s degree, then I got sick. I wanted to be a photographer, but now I’m scared at the prospect of what a job might bring and what my body won’t be able to handle. I struggle daily to fulfill what I believe to be my duties to my family, but so often I can’t do what I want to do because of this stupid illness. The flare-ups of pain make me tense, upset, nervous, and on the list goes. My medicine stopped working and made things worse, so I quit it. The arnica helps, but it’s not a cure by any means. I want to have fun. I want to be fun. I want to bake, cook, garden, and do all kinds of stuff… but I consistently get held back. Some people find ways to push through the pain and do whatever they want. That’s not me. I put up with a lot, or at least I think I do, but ignoring mass amounts of pain on a daily basis is a bit much for me. Learning to cope has helped a lot, but it’s hard. Times like tonight I just cry some, sit on the sofa, and wonder how such a good day turned into such a crappy night. And why aren’t my successes and good times boosting me above the downswing of emotions I’m experiencing? I’m strong, I should be better than this. Blargh. There goes the guilt, the self-bashing that I fight all the time. This illness has really shaken my sense of worth, which was something I was already struggling with long before I got sick. If it weren’t for Honey and Buddy’s affections and support, I’d really be a mess.

This is my life after fibromyalgia. It hurts.

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