Archive for September, 2012


Sharing

I never get it through my head..that I should just shut my mouth, dont talk about my thoughts, my feelings, my ideas, or my gripes. Once again, I FAIL. Learned awhile back not to share with family because I am judged, questioned and then basically told how I am wrong. So fuck me because I open my mouth and share with someone I have learned in the past is NOT on my side;. When will I learn..do I like to just be kicked and then when I am down kicked again? And I am fucking sorry, but the perfect family life of the 50’s is NOT the same as today. The relationships between a husband and wife are not the same. So why am I being held to the Cleaver family standards in the year 2012? What really gets me is that in the beginning it was known that I have a loud family, we say what we feel, speak our minds. But I am broken down over the years until I cannot take any stress and am made to feel like I am wrong. Wrong for not wanting to hear bitching about the same subject every fucking night. Wrong because I dont want to sit around while one drink after another is consumed and then have to deal with the remarks and attitude that arises after the third drink.

I am gonna tattoo on my arm, shut your mouth..maybe it is the only way I will remember.

to do list

My list is short. Be happy. Dont stress. Take care of myself. I fight myself every day to be happy, to not stress, and, well..in taking care of myself, I wake and eat breakfast (something I never used to do..ever) I take the supplements and vitamins to give my body what it needs to let me get thru the day. I take care of those little day to day things that must be done for things in a household to run smoothly. Laundry, trash, trip to the store or pharmacy. Shit everyone does. I try to appreciate the things I have, the things I see, and ANY positive idea or thought that may by chance pop into my head.

Yet, every day I fuck something up, somehow. This week it was not putting ONE tiny pill into my evening pillbox. And I guess from the first night that I opened the newly filled box and didnt notice that one gone was a fuck up..and the second night..and the third..and the fourth. So when the past 3 nights I was in bed in pain by 7pm I kinda thought something wasnt right, but it wasnt until last night when I was in bed at 6pm, and I couldnt get comfortable, and every time I woke after an hour or two of sleep, I couldnt move. Every time I fell asleep I had horrible nightmares. Woke for the tenth time at 4am in tears, wondering why have I had a setback, why was I feeling debilitated again. WHY? The thought ran through my head that I was missing something, I opened the pill box..Saturdays pills..no Lyrica..Sundays, Mondays pills, no Lyrica…FUCK..I never put that one little fucking pill in and now 4 nights later I am in withdrawls, in pain, in such terrible shape because I cant take care of myself enough to remember one tiny fucking pill I have to take or I am bedridden. The worst is having to admit this to him..he already thinks I cant take care of myself. he already controls me to the fucking hilt. He already makes every decision thats important because I have FAILED to make them. Hell, I cant even balance a checkbook anymore.

I force myself out of bed at 8, make him breakfast (expected of me on weekends) I was told we were going out to the meat market. Do I want to, no. But I wipe the tears and do what I am told. The conversation comes up about moving and it can be MY choice..yeah right. My answer..just move to Florida where his mother is. Why. Because thats where he wants to be. Then I am told how great it is there and how I will love it. OK..tears..tears..more tears..because I realize he is right. I cant take care of myself, cant make decisions. SO I give in..I give up my to do list, my dreams along with it..and sadly heartbreaking, .I give up my love. My soul..my life. What does it matter anyway. It hasnt mattered for so long. I hate gulf Florida. I have said for nearly 30 years that is not where I want to be. But I was strong then, self confident, I was me I could stand up for myself without question. I am no longer that person. I dont like this new person who has invaded my brain and body..this person who has taken over my life and is such a fucking loser she cant even keep an easy to do list.

Returning

Nerves about travel were eased the first couple days when I could actually do a few things like walk..swim..and relax. I knew I pushed and did have a slight collapse in emotions and strength and had to just sleep. Hard to return to the chores and stress of daily life here. I got to see other places, different people, it energizes me. I need that..I see it now. Total change will happen eventually, maybe sooner than later if I look at it one way..or it wont happen for a couple years when I look at it another. I must keep open mind and heart, I must be ready for change and accept it.

I have always believed “I can bloom wherever I am planted” …that was before I became sick. I am not completely in doubt, but wonder how much I can handle at once. I guess I will see soon enough.

My changes had to begin when I couldn’t handle all the things in life I worked hard for, they are gone, that dream has past, finding new dreams and planning for change is extremely difficult when you are in a fog. The old saying about not making any decisions when things are bad does not apply any longer. Decisions must be made, hard ones that will alter my path. Unsure of the future and where I will be, who I will be with (or by myself). I must just throw it to the fates and hope they allow me to find the right place, find peace, and just begin to live again at the same time accepting what is my life and let the past go. Not dwelling, not being angry, not crying all the damn time, while at the same time being strong and not allowing anyone to control or take advantage of me. My old self would have saw the dream and went for it. The new me is timid and weak. I am my only advocate, I am my only support, I am my only real friend. I used to know me, I am learning about my new self and trying very hard to find the positive in me so I can move forward…wherever that may be.

Fighting Fibromyalgia

This is so very true.  I’m struggling a lot with this too.  It’s something my husband and I are working on together.  The plan we had for our lives did not include me developing fibromyalgia and all the ramifications that brings.  Things have to change and we don’t exactly know what that means for the future.  We’re working on it.  I’ve had to make a lot of changes to myself, my thoughts, and my habits.  I’ve had to drop down to only working 30 hours a week at my job instead of working a full 40 hours.  Lots of things are changing right now and it takes some getting used to for me, my husband, my family and my friends.  I’m not the same person I was before fibromyalgia.  Chronic pain has changed me.  I think some of the ways I’ve had to change are for the better.  I appreciate…

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