There are days when I just don't feel like putting on my happy face and today is one of them. I'm glad I am home alone because I can be miserable, just the way I need to, without those nagging feeling of guilt when the hubby is busy with chores and I am flat out on the sofa. I have been experiencing a nasty flare-up of my fibro stuff and have been mostly on the couch for the past few days. I get up to do what I have to do, then just dive back into the cushions as soon as I can. I missed another family visit yesterday as well as some fun getting ready for Halloween. Drat! These days seem like such a waste of time and I feel left out and ticked off. But I'd rather be alone during a flare so I can drift in and out of sleep as my body needs and I can wake up with my hair looking like it just had a wild party and not think about how silly I must look with a four inch spike shooting from the top of my head. I can eat my meals little by little and not worry about socializing or even smiling or sitting up through a meal. I can wallow if I want to and snap then out of it as soon as my body will allow without any spectators.
These flairs are pretty interesting when I observe them more objectively. They come on with a vengeance and demand to be heard and dealt with. There is no mistaking which part of my body is in charge in that moment. And the flare will stay just exactly as long as it wants to - regardless of what I try to do to make it go away. Warm bath. Nope. Pain meds? Nope. Sleep-rest-sleep? Nope? Sit up? Lie Down? Go out on the porch and soak in some sun? Nope. Nope and Nope. My body is telling me clearly and in no uncertain terms that I am to just let go. No effort, no negotiating, no demanding. I must rest because it is what my body needs and if it didn't scream that message to me - I wouldn't listen. Now there's a lesson for me to learn!
It's sometimes surprising to me that I can be in a really good place in my head, relaxed, and over-all just fine, but still, a flare strikes. I keep working on that good place when I'm right in the middle of feeling lousy - but boy, oh, boy - that's hard. So I am sitting here writing, my vision blurry, my head heavy, but it is the one thing I promise myself that the fibro will not take away. I still have my voice and my power, even if it doesn't look that way. So when I finish this, I am heading back to the couch with my mug of tea, a crisp apple and the sunshine washing over me. I suspect this fog will lift soon. And when it does I will move into my day and be thankful for all of it because even the fog offers a lesson I can learn.
These flairs are pretty interesting when I observe them more objectively. They come on with a vengeance and demand to be heard and dealt with. There is no mistaking which part of my body is in charge in that moment. And the flare will stay just exactly as long as it wants to - regardless of what I try to do to make it go away. Warm bath. Nope. Pain meds? Nope. Sleep-rest-sleep? Nope? Sit up? Lie Down? Go out on the porch and soak in some sun? Nope. Nope and Nope. My body is telling me clearly and in no uncertain terms that I am to just let go. No effort, no negotiating, no demanding. I must rest because it is what my body needs and if it didn't scream that message to me - I wouldn't listen. Now there's a lesson for me to learn!
It's sometimes surprising to me that I can be in a really good place in my head, relaxed, and over-all just fine, but still, a flare strikes. I keep working on that good place when I'm right in the middle of feeling lousy - but boy, oh, boy - that's hard. So I am sitting here writing, my vision blurry, my head heavy, but it is the one thing I promise myself that the fibro will not take away. I still have my voice and my power, even if it doesn't look that way. So when I finish this, I am heading back to the couch with my mug of tea, a crisp apple and the sunshine washing over me. I suspect this fog will lift soon. And when it does I will move into my day and be thankful for all of it because even the fog offers a lesson I can learn.
I too have Fibromyalgia and know exactly what you are going through. My pain feels like a cut and it can strike at anytime. The worst is being awaken out of sleep by pain. I sometimes wake up in a panic, because the pain is so severe. Big hugs hun!
ReplyDeleteI know what you're saying! Waking up in severe pain is a real shock to the system. Thanks so much for writing. And hugs to you, too.
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