Tame The Beast

In order to get a handle on Fibromyalgia you have to believe you can get a handle on Fibromyalgia. I think that is the trend I am noticing, the pattern evolving. The patients that have questioned drugs-to-treat-symptoms and given up their processed, fake and junk food in exchange for proper nutrition really benefit. The ones that have shut the door on toxic and stressful people and have started exercising, no matter how easy and slow, are improving. The first 4 years I had this illness I was a complete mess. I paid my quivering dues in a shivering heap of self-pity for many months. Not knowing how on earth I was going to survive living life in a body in so much pain. I spent the requisite anger phase lying there with barely a pulse as the world passed me by. It was the worst case of flu in my life. I hurt so bad all I wanted to do was not be inside my own body. No position was comfortable and I did not get the luxury of being sick for a week and getting better and going back to work. No, I had to go to work without getting better, for it was lasting too long. I slowly but surely surrendered my career into lesser and lesser prevalence in my reality as the pain and insomnia overtook me. I became disabled. And then, every semblance of control in my life stripped away, I let go and let God.

Somehow I found fight. Deep, deep inside. It was not me. A pit in the center of my stomach said no. Not this way. It was generations and generations of blood pulsing through me that screamed out a refusal to live in a prison body. All that spirit my ancestors possessed. All they worked for, all they fought to conquer and settle and build and grow found the same determination in me now. A strength I did not know I possessed and had been handed down to me without my knowledge. One step following the other I sought out wellness. I researched and educated myself. I obtained medical treatment. I explored alternative therapies quite successfully. I got CFS into remission and my Fibromyalgia managed. I now know and believe that if anyone has done it, I can too. Anything. Well almost.

But I can live a life! I can sleep and exercise and laugh and love. I can go shopping and take my dogs to the park. And it is this that I wish to impart to you. I wanted to jump off an orange bridge with all my might. But I didn't, and fought back, and won. My life is limited but still a whole hell of a lot better than popping 5 Percocet a day to dull the never-ending pain. Or fatiguing so bad after 30 minutes outside of my house that I had to forget what I was doing and return to the daze of safety. Oh yes, life is much better now than it was before. I am still missing about 35% of myself, that Fibro has stolen. And I try a little bit each day to do better. Both in action and intention. In accepting and forgiving while improving and progressing. And I am thrilled watching so many of you do it too.

Thanks for joining,

Leah