Maybe it finally resonated that I am not capable of pushing through a bad mood in the same way I am unable to just will away my health problems. Because that mood is usually the first symptom of a flare. The initial telltale sign I am in for days of misery, very soon. Every 34,593 times this has happened before I led with my heart. I got mad, cried, felt angry and frustrated. Then I would usually slip into self-pity, wondering why on earth life has to be so hard. Why did I get sick? With something so strange, to boot? Then I would look around at a house in complete disarray and know that even if I busted my ass and cleaned it from top to bottom it is not something I can realistically maintain. Next I usually start obsessing on my friends that are in the same or worse situation than I am in. And now, adding helpless to my basket of negative emotions, it does not take long to convince myself I am a terrible wife, fur-baby mom, daughter, sister and friend. And a complete and total failure at this thing called life because I was somehow stupid enough to get Fibromyalgia. And I'll be darned if yes indeed, by the time I have done all this, I am not shaking hands with the devil as I dance down the miserable path of a colossal flare.
But no, I am not going to do that today. I cannot guarantee I would have made the same choice yesterday, or that I will tomorrow. But just for today I am going to let the world's problems be its problems. Accept there is nothing that I can do to cure Fibromyalgia right now, go get in the shower and hit my cold muscles with the hot water, slather some Bengay on my lower back and plug on. I may get a flare, I may not. I may be able to reduce its severity and intensity by not indulging my mood. I don't know. I just know I am sick and tired of being sick and tired but more than that, being so darn hard on myself. So for today I am glad to not be my own worst enemy.
Thanks for joining,