Routine vs. The Rebel

Focus vs. forgiveness, progress vs. permission, action vs. acceptance... These are the virtues I struggle to balance daily. As a Fibromyalgia patient I must make certain concessions, accept certain limits that I did not have before I became ill. Balancing all the components of my life is not only necessary, but CRITICAL to remaining "managed", meaning I have more control over my life than Fibromyalgia does. I must get my sleep, daily exercise, eat a healthy diet, manage my stress, and listen to my body and take it easy when something feels out of sorts, knowing it's either those wacky hormonal fluctuations or a flare-up sneaking up on me. I must pay attention to my mood and pain levels because those days I wake up READY TO TAKE A SHOTGUN TO THE WORLD for no good reason usually precipitate said set-backs. If I pay attention, cocoon myself and catch it early, I can usually save myself days of misery. I must treat myself well, with kindness and compassion, for no one else will if I don't do it first.

But then 28 habitual years of the leo-type-A-overachiever-OCD-perfectionist kicks in and wants some darn progress out of life! She wants to move forward to bigger and better things, actualize the greatness life is waiting to manifest, lead the charge and make it happen...hence the struggle to meld the dichotomy of routine vs. the rebel is born. I crave routine, enjoy the turtle-paced progress of life when I know what to expect and what I need to do to make it happen. I like my plate to be on the light-side of full, a variety of the small and colorful portions of life. But I am so easily distracted...thrown off course after a couple of days of boring and predictable routine. I am also incredibly gifted at coming up with excuses...reasons to indulge my whims and not stay on track. I suppose this all goes back to a discipline issue.

Now that Prednisone (my nemesis) has been thrown into the mix life is all the more intense! This must be the yang to my many years of CFS & Fibromyalgia yin, where I sat around the house too sick to actually do anything. An attempt for my life to balance itself out, perhaps? I am not going to bed at a reasonable hour, starting my day off late, racing around never really getting anything done, just 500 things barely started! I feel that the second I get up in the morning someone takes a clock and chucks it far out in front of me and I spend the rest of the day racing to catch up with it, tripping and stumbling into pot-holes and snarled brush along the way. If I see something that needs to be picked up and put away it becomes THE MOST IMPORTANT THING IN THE WORLD TO DO RIGHT NOW!

When did I become this ubber-uptight ninny that flips out at the slightest lack of control? I am so incredibly bitchy and have forgotten how to laugh, let things roll off my back, see the poetic humor in all things both good and bad. I am taking myself way too seriously! By the time my husband comes home from work I am a wreck...dinner not made, the house an explosion, puppies ignored...oh you all get it better than anyone, I needn't go on and on. But when I fall apart, he falls apart and then our life falls apart, making it that much more work to get back on track! This is a particularity formidable time in my life. I have a lot going on both personally and professionally, am attempting to not balloon up on steroids (and doing a horrible job I might add), manage a chronic illness that still requires a significant amount of effort to keep in its proper place (stomped under my stilettoed heel) and marveling at the reality that I just survived 2 strokes at age 33! I am attempting to stay calm and focused on my greater purpose and glean my strength and peace through God, not wig out on a Prednisone tail-spin...Woo-hoo my plate is full, and its overflowing with greasy, fried, fattening foods that are leaving me a miserable, bloated mess at the end of the day. As we speak I am confined to my bed with my husband snoring softly next to me simply because he knows if left to my own devices I will sneak in here at 2AM, starting off the next day in the same predictable downward spiral...

So I have made a few key commitments to myself, and I am going to let the rest flow from there. I am going to bed at a set time every night, chores completed well before. I am stretching every morning after I walk the pups before I get on the computer and let my day suck away. I am fixing myself up and putting on some street clothes everyday, even if I never leave the house. I must stop LIVING sick, a mess, disheveled, and putting jeans on reminds me to not eat nearly as much as when I am wearing sweats. And I am going to slow down... I may not be stronger than Prednisone, but God is. So I am taking the burden of manic off myself and turning it over to Their hands. I have a great calling on my life, to lead The Fibromyalgia Crusade and change the quality of living with this disease for all of us that suffer from it. Yet I am but 1 tiny little woman with 1 small voice. If I want to lead this charge I must humble myself and recognize where my true strength and focus lie. Amazingly enough, I feel better already!

Thanks for joining,
Leah