Thursday, August 29, 2013

Me Against Me

Well the onslaught of symptoms I was trying exhaustively to avoid settled around me with a thud last night. I started to get a little snappy but forced myself to release the anger starting to sweep me up. Then I tried to go to bed but couldn't fall asleep. Which made me really mad, because when my sleep gets screwy everything else does too. But I calmed down enough to realize getting frustrated was only keeping me awake. After flip-flopping from the sofa to bed a half-dozen times I dozed off into a pain-filled, fitful half-sleep on the sofa around 4am. My husband moved me to the bed when he woke up for work a couple hours later. I tossed and turned and finally gave up around 10, when I woke up crying and shaking my fist at the sky. Everything hurt and I didn't want to face the day. 

Of course when I took the dogs out I got all mad at my employers who squeezed me out of a job back in San Francisco six years ago. The ridiculous, unprovoked source of my discord was so outlandish and far reaching even I realized how absurd it was. But I've kind of existed like that all day. Getting frustrated over how I feel, talking myself out of exercising, telling myself I won't feel any better if I don't do yoga, not doing it and getting mad at myself for being lazy. Then compassionate me will pop her head in every so often and tell me to quit being so hard on myself. One week, or maybe it's three I am actually going on, of missed exercise won't kill me. However, I have more excuses than anyone I know to not get my life together! And then mad me takes over and yells at pathetic, sorry compassionate me. Because the heart of the matter is that if I waited to feel good to pursue my life I would never get out of bed.

Okay, this is it, the tip of the iceberg of the quagmire I exist in. Playing these silly mind games in my head instead of accomplishing my life. I tried the approach of just ignoring my symptoms and charging full speed ahead a few months back. After all, the river boat of life waits for no one. The end result was a resurgence of how bad Fibro used to feel, all those years ago when my life was nothing more than a blur from one inflamed flare to the next with no break in between. So now I am trying this. Writing out my feelings, analyzing my experiences and trying to figure out what on earth I can do to break this cycle.  

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