I sobbed like a baby tonight.  I cried gut wrenching sobs that I stifled in my pillow so no one would hear me.  Pent up frustration, exhaustion, shame, pain, sadness, and grief came pouring out of me all at once, as it does every so often when it just gets to be too much for too long.

I was laying in bed this evening after sleeping most of the day because I did not sleep at all during the previous night.  I was perusing Facebook while the TV blared in the background and saw a new music video by Avril Lavigne posted in the feed.  I can’t say that I’ve ever been an avid follower or mega fan of her.  I suppose I’ve just always been a fan of a different genre.  I remember her angsty teen songs, sang along, knew that she had been on a bit of a hiatus for medical reasons but didn’t think much of it.  And then I watched this video…

Jesus. All mighty.  I don’t even think I made it though the first verse before I started tearing up.  I knew that prayer and still know it well.  This woman, who suffers from her own chronic illness (Lyme’s Disease) was singing what every sufferer of chronic pain pleads for.  By the end of the song, I was in full blown sobs.

I’m not going to lie, I don’t really like to draw the type of attention to myself that Fibromyalgia brings.  I’m well aware of the stigma that it carries.  I think I’m part of the problem because I feel like I’m a carrier of that stigma too.  I am ashamed of my condition.  I’m ashamed of that shame.  I still find myself in denial and under the assumption that someday they will find that it was ‘something else’ even though I’ve had more than one physician confirm the diagnosis.  Certainly I have co-morbidities that contribute to my condition, but Fibro is the easiest to point the finger at.

The truth is, I am a walking, talking contradiction.  I hate the subject, and yet, speak of it daily.  I get so burnt out on the topic yet bombard my husband with my issues on a daily basis.  I use the phrase “I’m fine” like my life depends on it but will give full, elaborate explanation if someone asks me about my symptoms.  I hide it but am so appreciative when the people in my life want to understand it.  It’s hard to bury it when it is so ingrained in my life.  Certainly, one of my biggest fears is that someone would think I would ever use my condition as an excuse for anything.

At my best, I function at about 65%.  I can go to work, be a decent wife/mother/friend, show some productivity, and can plaster a smile on my face like nobody’s business.  At my worst I’m withdrawn, isolated, and scared.  I exist in a world all of my own.  I secretly wonder if any one of my symptoms might actually kill me, if for no other reason than the fact that I might pass off an actual unrelated and serious symptom as another canned and condensed symptom of Fibromyalgia.  My bad days seem to outnumber my good days.  And when it just gets to be too much for too long, I’m looking for a tap-out button that just doesn’t exist.

Let me just say though, because it’s only fair, that I’m one of the lucky-unlucky ones.  I have a husband who, while not fully comprehending what I deal with, tirelessly works to protect and take care of me.  I have children who support and sympathize at my worst.  I have co-workers and mentors that give me their unwavering patience, support, and understanding.  I have friends and family who will do anything for me, anytime, anywhere.  They all give me something invaluable and appreciated.  Time.  I don’t even want to imagine where I would be mentally and emotionally if it weren’t for these perfect people in my life.  I am one of the lucky ones.

Brene Brown, once said “Vulnerability sounds like truth and feels like courage.  Truth and courage aren’t always comfortable, but they are never weakness.”

I’m not weak; I know this.  My aunt Kay-Kay once told me that I had an ‘unsinkable soul’.  She was right, but it’s quite possible that I’m just now realizing it.  I’m working on vulnerability, being comfortable with exposure, and finding the courage to be okay with the me that is now.  I’ll struggle a bit longer to realize that not everyone sees me the way that, at times, I see myself, that they don’t have the prejudices towards me that I hold for myself, and that they don’t hold my value to the same standards that I hold for myself.  I’ll learn that I’m worth more than just my limitations… hopefully sooner rather than later.

It’s been a rough week.  I live somewhere between hope and hell, but you can bet your ass I’m not going to give up.  Eff you, Fibro – I’ve got shit to do.

And thanks, Avril.  You have earned a fan and my most profound respect.

Peace, Love & Dirt.

~Misty