Thank You, Mr. Cosby

When I was a teenager my mother and I got into a voracious argument. Inch for inch both equally stubborn and bullheaded, we were driving in the car surrounded by tense quiet. My mom pushed the scan button on the radio with a flourish and it silently flipped through a circle of static stations like an old time picture show. We fumed, glared and snorted fire at each other in silence while the signal struggled to find an air-wave which would produce sound. Long forgotten about in the simmering and stewing anger between us, suddenly, with no warning, classical music filled the car at top volume. Raging violins and furious wind instruments took up all the space previously occupied with discord. Surprised, we looked at each other and burst out laughing. What was funny? Who knows, but it broke the ice so we could get on with our day.

Laughter is an important tool. It has a little benefit attached to it, a sip of "perspective". And it is never as important or necessary as when experiencing heartache or tragedy. I felt it for the first time when I was 13 years-old and saw Steel Magnolias. There is a heart wrenching scene where anyone in the room, if they are indeed human, must be sobbing like a baby who lost their candy. Then something really funny happens and it is that special kind of tear that chokes from your soul, the beginning of a laugh. And the pain of laughter forcing its way out the sobs of your heart, well, it heals.

People ask me why on earth would I name the support page on Facebook the loyal readers of my blog chat on The Fibromyalgia Funhouse. Fibromyalgia is NOT fun, I have been told. And I could not agree more. But is a fun house? Traditionally it is not a place to just go have fun. It can be weird, creepy, scary, disturbing or just plain gross. It is a house of illusions, and a foray into deciphering truth from trickery. The objective is to maneuver through the distorted reality and survive the unpredictable, hopefully with a grin across your face. Well for goodness sakes, if that does not describe Fibromyalgia then I don't know what does! Please keep sharing and laughing and learning and caring. It is how we grow past the imprisonment of this illness and often that first chuckle, the little giggle at the sheer preposterousness of it all, is the first step there.

Thanks for joining,

Leah