Thursday, March 18, 2021
Wednesday, February 10, 2021
On Monday night I tested positive for covid-19. I immediately slid into a hyper-paranoid state, obsessing over every physical symptom being the beginning of the end as I waited for it to kill me. But it's a strange virus. I had a fever for like three days that easily abated with Tylenol. My doctor told me to get a pulse oximeter and my blood oxygen levels remained in the high 90s. I had a sore throat, some days but not others. And my taste and smell abated for a week but never fully went away. Mainly I slept like 18 hours a day for around three weeks. I would wake up, eat and get dressed, and fall back asleep. Toothpicks couldn't have propped open my eyelids but I was too tired to care. Everyone who depended on me for anything got ignored. Yet it was not the worst flu I've ever had. I'll admit, I was having flashbacks to when I had CFS/ME. Was this going to last forever and destroy my life too? But honestly I was too tired to care. Being awake for six hours a day doesn't leave much time for freaking out.
If you're so inclined, drop me a comment to let me know how covid or the side effects of living in lockdown have impacted you.
Thanks for joining,
Monday, February 1, 2021
In my defense I read voraciously in my younger years and literature had evolved quite a bit since then. Not that I would've known, seeing as I didn't read. Which is why I was staring at the prospect of writing the same book for the fourth time. A notion which made me vomit a little bit every time I thought of it. Nevertheless, I persisted. I think it was upon presenting my fourth chapter to my writer's group that another major issue resurfaced. I had so many characters and storylines going on that I wasn't effectively representing any of them. Why was I trying to pursue a career I had absolutely no education in?
Taking a bite out of my original idea and chewing on it for a while, I devised a way to split my book in two. My initial objective had been to write a story about a girl who gets fibro and it rips her life apart. In order to accurately represent the experience, I gave her a full year of normal living to prove she wasn't "crazy," just damaged like everyone else, followed by a series of physical catastrophes (what we call trigger events) to highlight the fallacy of the "fibro's a psychological problem" conspiracy. Redrafting, I decided to make her sidekick the protagonist during that year of normalcy and basically write the prequel.
At this point it was painfully clear I needed to become acquainted with my contemporaries. I read a few books but didn't really know what I should be reading. So I joined a book club. It was 2019, around the time I was trying to pull myself from the isolation of my last relapse and rejoin life. Ohhh I felt like an alien. Luckily this book club was of the "bring a bottle of wine and some pot luck" variety. The liquid lubricant helped ease my social anxiety and eventually book club became the highlight of my month. So I joined another and was forced to discover audiobooks. Because who on Earth has enough time to lie around reading two books a month? Certainly not me. I was trying to write one, remember?
In 2020 I read 86 books. Audiobooks became my lifesaver back in March when lockdown was mandated and my husband started working from home. I could slip on my headphones while doing housework and not have to listen to him shouting into the phone all day. What joy! Not only that, my writing has improved exponentially. I have since moved on to a more professional writer's group and am happy to say I just submitted chapter 23 for review. Not that my manuscript doesn't need polish, but it seems the nuts and bolts of writing fiction no longer elude me.
If you're so inclined, drop me a comment to let me know about your reading or writing journey!
Thanks for joining,
Wednesday, January 27, 2021
Well hello there. It's been nearly a year since I last posted a blog. Is it too dramatic to say that between February 7, 2020 (my last post) and today, the world has pretty much flipped on its head? I don't think it is.
The break did me good. It's not like I haven't wanted to write in all this time. I just haven't known how to keep writing a blog centered solely around having fibromyalgia. Back in the day when I started blogging I was a very sick girl. Sick was the only way I knew how to relate to the world. My days were spent in a defensive huddle trying to fend off everything life hurled at me, a perpetual victim too burdened to take charge. I still have those days but thankfully that is not every day, anymore. Once I gained a semblance of control and found some stability, I was able to branch out and start moving forward. My worldview expanded and for a while there I was even hurling toward the stars. I believed I had conquered fibro and "that phase of my life" was behind me. Then it became very hard to write this blog.
Can I pick myself up off the ground and stop laughing, please? Because it wasn't long before I tumbled back down to hell and all that progress I thought was mine forever vanished in an instant. I relapsed. And with the physical relapse came an immense depression. They both took me years to recover from. Somewhere along the line I realized talking about my feelings was helping to keep me sick. So I stopped. It was easier to shift my focus to doing something else than feed the immense negativity threatening to swallow me whole. So what on Earth was I supposed to blog about then?
What a decade it has been. Throughout all of these ups and downs, I've grown tremendously as a person. Be it age or experience, my swings aren't as wide and lows don't dip nearly as deep. This has allowed me to pile the plate of my life high with a variety of different interests. They keep me marching forward regardless of the fluctuating state of my health. So how, given the many changes I've experienced over the last ten years, do I keep writing a blog solely about being sick? My answer is I don't. I write a blog about experiencing the world as a person who is sick.
Welcome to Chronicles of F.I.B.R.O.: a chronicle of my journey to find inspiration, balance, resilience, and optimism. I'm an aspiring novelist, rapacious reader, devoted dog mom, dedicated wife, avid health seeker, wine enthusiast, and commentator on life. All fit into a package who lives with chronic illness.
If so inclined, please drop me a comment and let me know how you are doing!
Thanks for joining,