I like what I like and can't really explain why. I don't know why I am sensitive to some things and not to others. Why do I cry like crazy when I peel onions and my hubby barely sheds a tear? Why do some news stories hit me like a ton of bricks when other people go to the movies to get more of the same? I can't explain my affinity for certain foods and my aversion to others. Who knows why I like the books I do, or the profession I've chosen? Having fibro has changed some of what I like and what I want to experience and I know that my sensitivities have increased. But my preferences are my preferences and simply a part of who I am. Sometimes I wish my feelings weren't so tender and I certainly wish I didn't react so strongly to things that never used to make any difference to me. Most of my preferences or sensitivities aren't really an issue unless they bump up against someone else's. It's when I'm at home that it matters most. With most things, my hubby and I seem to be on the same page so decisions are pretty easy to make.
I find that in dealing with fibro and fatigue I have become even more sensitive than I used to be. I've always been pretty sensitive emotionally and now I startle easily, I don't tolerate meds well and alcohol is not my friend. I am like the princess and the pea - sensitive to a tight shoe, a rough seam or a too tight collar or a wrinkle in the bed sheets. My body doesn't handle pain the way it used to either and I am less tolerant of noise or chaos. My increased sensitivity can be annoying. It has also infringed upon my hubby's preferences and I feel badly about that. One way that impacts him is in the kind of music he enjoys listening to to relax or to have in the background as he works. We like some of the same music, but we part ways when it comes to music that evokes sadness or melancholy, and I just can't listen to disjointed, ragged, jazz music.
Melancholy tunes just bring me down and I already fight to stay positive and upbeat. I don't need weepy music reminding me that I am on the edge and things aren't quite as good as I want them to be. I also don't like disjointed jazz music. It puts my nerves on edge and makes me feel jumpy and uneasy. I have almost a physical response to that music and I have to get out of its way. Then here's my poor hubby, looking forward to blasting his favorite jazz tunes as he does the dishes and I don't want to hear it. I have to give him credit, because he really gets it and he rarely complains, but every now and then I know he wishes it weren't so. In the scheme of things this isn't a big disaster issue, but its one more way fibro insinuates itself into my everyday life. There are lots of things I've taken off my life list and I am okay with that, but I don't want my hubby to have to eliminate one more thing than he absolutely has to.
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