I don’t complain often, but I just gotta say, my body hurts really badly. It’s been so long, but I still have a hard time imagining that you can go from strong and healthy to being in constant pain.
How you can go from vibrant and someone who runs and plays with kids, to someone who can’t walk on bare feet and whose knees, ankles, hips, buttocks, backs, shoulder, neck, writs and fingers ALL feel like they are being cut into with knives all day and all night without relief and running isn’t even a remote possibility.
How your mind is working so hard to fight the pain signals, anxiety and depression that you can’t focus on how to speak full sentences and you basically walk around in a fog like you have early onset dementia.
The idea that you first give up the things you love to do physically to then needing to accept you also need to give up the things you use to do with your mind. How in the world did this happen?
How did I disappear on myself?
There is just so much to learn still about the diagnosis of Fibromyalgia and the numerous other crazy, strange and little-known conditions that typically go along with it.
Almost no FM patient only has one diagnosis. Most of the time the body just keeps deteriorating causing more and more conditions to pop up and take over.
I don’t complain often. I keep up a pretty positive front. I choose that. I choose to see the miracles that surround me and the silver lining around the darkness. I know I simply need to keep finding adjustments.
I still hold value. I still have a voice. I still have something to share and accomplish and contribute.
I still choose to see joy. I still choose to smile. I still choose to walk through the pain and hike in spite of my body wanting to lock me down.
I still choose to write even when my fingers and mind both seem to want to shut down as I touch the keys.
And I am not alone. There are so many of us living with invisible conditions. There are also many of us living with ones that others can see.
And I am not alone in choosing to be positive about it. There are so many mental warriors around us, people just like me who have so much to give and say in this world but who struggle to keep their heads above the rushing waters of pain. There are days you feel like you are drowning, but I see you. I am here just like you treading water and together we just keep coming up for air. Being a warrior does not mean you have to fight things alone. Find your support and let them know when you need them most.
I don’t complain often. But some days, the dark clouds are pretty dark.
Now I think it’s time for a hike. But maybe, some more coffee first. It was a long night.