Category Archives: Family life

I hurt so Badly. Why Can’t you be Kind?

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I hurt so Badly.  Why Can’t you be Kind?

Hello fellow warriors and friends.  I write this today as a result of the things that went on yesterday here at my house.  I live in the country, with grass and hills that make even a walk outside impossible.  I can go outside and sit on my porch (I am right now) but I can’t go anywhere else because I still don’t have my car.  I am miserable and getting worse by the day.  Yesterday I broke.

They are trying.  See, I live with men.  Two sons and a husband.  They are trying to get our other two vehicles on the road but because of how expensive that is in Pennsylvania it is taking months before we have the money.   So, I am stuck here.  I have been for years.

I don’t complain much.  According to my husband, I am some sort of crazy person who loses my shit all the time.  Same with my oldest son.  The things is, though, is that I do not.  Yesterday I cried because I am so sad and miserable and I have been trying to hide it from everyone, especially myself. The problem is that every time I have a feeling about something I am “crazy”.

I have been binge watching television.  That is about it.  I cruise around my laptop to facebook and reddit.  I have been desperately trying to distract myself, to no avail.  I still feel like a miserable lump.

Now, I know that there are a lot of women with fibro who have no one.  Or whose husbands are just horribly mean and abusive..  No way is my situation worse, or even as bad as that.  But the reality is, is that everyone has their own demons; they have their own struggle.  My struggle is that my husband has no compassion.

He admits that he has none.  When I was crying yesterday because I am so miserable, sore, and bored he got mad at me.  He gets angry when I cry.  He is never sweet, or caring.  In those dark moments I am on my own.  It would be easier if I didn’t know for a fact that he is capable of it.

This is not to say he doesn’t help in other ways.  He is wonderful.  Him and the boys do their own laundry, they help with dishes.  I know that for the most part I am blessed.  I make sure he knows I feel that way nearly every day.  I do NOT take that for granted.

But the dark times?  The really dark times, when I feel like I am slipping again.  When I am wondering if I still want to live at all?  In those moments I need him the most and he is just angry.  I told him he couldn’t understand what it is like to be housebound and that made him mad too.  He won’t help me because I said that.  That is the excuse this time.  Of course he can’t understand, he has NEVER been housebound.  I don’t understand what he does at work every day..  at all..  how can this be the reason your shutting me out and hurting me worse?

I don’t know if anyone will read this..  I just needed to get it out.  I am so sad and I want my husband to hug me when I cry..  how is that too much to ask?

So, right now I am broken.  I am desperately trying to pick up a craft or color, but then I just don’t..  I keep doing the same thing..  over and over.

I am really angry with myself.  I am angry at so many things.  I am pissed that I cannot walk around my own lawn.  I miss my old life sometimes.  These are the reasons that I am freaking out.  This is permanent and dammit, I am going to suffer and break and I need my partner to help me put myself back together again.

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You Only Have 18 Years to Raise Your Children. Don’t Waste Those Precious Moments Worried About a Condition

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You Only Have 18 Years to Raise Your Children.  Don’t Waste Those Precious Moments Worried About a Condition

Please read this one…  I felt a bit odd when I wrote it, like it wasn’t just me writing it… My Muse was strong for me today.

I realize that I have written before about kids and how fibro effects them.  As a mother, the amount of guilt I felt at the fact that I wasn’t healthy like the other moms crushed me.  I constantly tried to be more involved.  I constantly tried to do more with them.  I wanted to be the healthy mom that I thought my kids deserved.  My boys are 17 and 19 now and they have told me they didn’t mind it that I was sick.  They wanted me with them.  They want me in their life just like I am.  I’m working real hard on believing it.

With fibromyalgia I still managed to raise two amazing, successful men.  Did I cast a spell?  No.  I figured out that time spent together is more precious than anything else I can imagine.  I bet that right now you are thinking “yeah right! How did she find the time?”

See, quality time with your kids is simply time with your kids.  You don’t need to take them places or do expensive things with them.  Stay home.  Watch a movie together.  As long as you are togehter you are accomplishing your goal.

I remember ruined trips to fairs and carnivals and malls and restaurants..  well you get the idea.  I thought that to prove I was okay I needed to pretend that I was ok.  This is not only false, it is dangerous to your relationships.

Pretending you are ok will most certainly make you worse.  I just attempted suicide because I pretended that I was ok.  Obviously I wasn’t.

Kids are not stupid.  They can tell that something is wrong.  Be honest.  The only thing scarier than having a sick mom is having one that won’t tell you what it is.

There is a fine line that we ride every minute of every day.  Always wondering how much we should let them know.  Are we failing as mothers because we can’t run?  Are we failing as mothers because it is difficult for us to make plans?

My youngest son is a senior this year.  He was the drum major.  He was the lead in the play Les Miserables.  Jean Valjean.  He is in 4 AP classes and has a 4.0 GPA.  He does model UN.  He made it into county chorus.

My other son is the opposite of Ian.  Shelby is 19 and he works on cars.  He is very good at what he does and could write a book with what he knows about cars.  His eye for design is unparalleled and he is going to accomplish amazing things.  He is driven and focused and all this while dealing with ADD with no medication.  Amazing.

SEE?  They are both just fine.  My opinion?  Better than fine.  Oh yeah, and Ian?  He gets his Eagle Scout soon and created the STEM program that the scout camp uses to teach the kids science and technology when they come to camp.

I had three child development classes.  Your kids need you.  They don’t need toys or computers or cars, they need you.  It Doesn’t matter that there is a version of you that hurts and needs to rest because ultimately YOU are there.  It is only scary if you don’t explain what is going on.  They understand a lot more than you think.

My youngest graduates high school this year.  He is a super brainy genius and a lot of the Ivory league schools are after him.  Obviously, having a sick mom didn’t ruin his life; matter of fact I was able to be here with him every second that I can because I know that my time with him is ticking down.

My other kid does body and mechanical work on cars.  His eye for design is stunning and I see big things for him.  Thank goodness he doesn’t mind staying at home.  I don’t think I could handle an empty nest.

I gave those examples because I have fibro.  I hid, I was insane, I yelled, I stopped going out, I stopped seeing friends.  I laid in my bed and wanted to die for 2 years.  I hate that I could have spent at least a little of that time with my kids.

One day though?  One day you will look back over your life with your kids.  My memories are glorious.  We did what I could handle, I didn’t have any pity parties for my pain, we picked things that we could do and what do ya know?  Firstly, I am much better at getting around.  I love time playing my drum when we play music.  I am gloriously happy in my life.

 

The most important nugget that I want to leave with you is this.

RULES

BE GENUINELY HAPPY

I am gloriously happy most of the time.  I didn’t used to be.  I have had to learn how to stay happy.  I figured, why waste time looking all pissed off and wrinkled?  Life is way too short not to smile all the time.  Even if your teeth are kind of bad.

GET OUT OF YOUR HEAD

you are not dying.  Yes it hurts.  Suck it up.  Your kid deserves the best you can give them

KEEP IT SMALL AND SIMPLE

Don’t go to Hershey park or a concert.  Stick with things that you can do

REMEMBER THE BRAIN FOG

There is no reason not to have a helper with you when you go out for the day.  I get do confused sometimes, a good road dawg is important

USE COMMON SENSE

I know that it sucks to have go think of all the extra crap you need when you are going somewhere because of the fibro.  I suggest you just deal and don’t let it upset you.  I have no solution for this, we need a lot of stuff because well, because fibro.

Important to note here that when you are getting your stuff ready to go and you find yourself getting confused, call your road dawg (friend).  When I call mine I tell her it is a Sanity Check

REMEMBER TO LIVE OUTSIDE YOUR OWN BODY

Our bodies can betray us and cause us to feel as though we are in a battle with our own soul.  The pain etc; that we have to endure is unthinkable to most people.  Yet here we are.

This is a constant battle for me.  Trying to live without thinking about my physical condition as all times.  It is a fight I actually win every single day because I beat it.  I am in charge of what and how I think.

I am happy to be with my kids in the time I have left with them.  No matter the ages of yours, spend the time.  Get to know them.  Learn how to play Halo.   You will regret it for the rest of your life if you do not.

This is NOT hard

The clock is ticking, one day they will be gone .  What will your memories look like?

You have the fight.. You can lift a mountain, if you needed to, to make sure that your kids are happy and feeling safe.

Suicide…? WTF?

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Suicide…?  WTF?

I have always thought that I was impervious to silly antics like suicide or shaving my head or..  I don’t know…  all that “crazy” shit that only insane, weak people do.  I always thought that people who committed suicide were selfish.  I could not have been more wrong.  They are in pain and out of touch, I barely recognized what I was doing.  There is no such thing as insane, and I have never met stronger people than those that I met in the pysch ward where I went after my attempt.

I took a pair of scissors to my wrist Friday…  in the deadly direction.  Luckily the scissors were dull and I only managed to barely open the skin. It was simply luck that the scissors were dull, if they wouldn’t have been, I would have been in real trouble.  As it was I scared myself enough to go to the hospital right away.

I certainly didn’t wake up and decide that I had lost all sense of myself and it was time to die.  It was a months long process of losing touch with myself.  Months of trying to come to terms with devastating information about fibromyalgia (My brain is aging 3.5 faster than healthy humans).  Months of feeling out of touch and like I was drowning.  Knowing you are going to lose your mind is a special kind of torture.

See, it is not abnormal to fantasize about killing yourself.  When I was depressed and I was first afflicted with fibro I fantasized constantly about how I would do it.  I never meant to do it.  At that time I never would have tried..  This time I tried.  Maybe I didn’t try very hard, but I tried and that was enough.

I couldn’t see a way past the excruciating nervous pain.  I resigned myself to feeling like shit because I do have fibromyalgia.  I thought I was doing the right thing by accepting the cards dealt to me by fibromyalgia; accepting that this was it.

I have fibro and that will never go away and I will never feel human again because I have this condition.  That said, I am damn sure not letting this bitch win.  I am not always stronger but dammit I will fight as hard as I can every single day.

I realized on Sunday morning when I woke up in the psych ward that I could do better; that I could be better.  It is up to me.  I know that there will be days that I feel like total shit.  That doesn’t matter nearly as much as I thought it did.

Every single day is a chance to try harder.  Every single day is a chance to practice skills that are complicated (plans, appointments. lunches with friends).  Every single damn day is a chance to make something beautiful happen.  I have to force myself sometimes but I have never once regretted keeping my plans or forcing myself to go out.

The people that want to see me don’t care that I cannot do anything physical.  They want to hang out with me.  So I have to sit or try to participate and look like a special kind of Broken Scarecrow Clumsy McFalldown.  Point is, the game has changed, you just need to learn the new rules.

The fight is what matters.  The harder I fall, the bigger the comeback..  I broke, I was done..  However, look out..  I found her and I am ready to live.  I hate that I wasted so much time.

The things that do matter?  Well, those are easy.  I have an amazing husband who would do anything in the world to keep me happy and healthy.  I have two amazing sons who are both so successful and amazing human beings that I can barely believe I was the one that raised them.  If I accomplish nothing else, I will have accomplished them, and that is enough.

The things that matter to me alone?  Well, those things I need back.  I need to create, I need to write.  I need to love myself.. big belly and all…    It is vital that I wake and give thanks for another day in this beautiful universe; connecting with amazing humans and loving every fucking second.

I am telling my story because it is important to note that you cannot always tell when someone is going to try to kill themselves.  You cannot always tell when you are going to try it.

When I cut myself I watched it form a line of blood on my arm and it was like I was watching someone else.  I was so far away that if it had been a better pair of scissors I may not be here to tell this story at all.

I bare my soul and I write this post because every day people are taking their own life.  No one can or should ever judge them, or think they have them figured out.  No one can judge those that need help in a psychiatric hospital.  They aren’t weak.  They aren’t selfish.  They aren’t at all what most people (even myself before) think.  They are fucking brave and scared and they simply need a hand.

Be a friend.  Love one another.  It was hard to love everyone in the hospital with me, but once I tried I came back to myself and I was able to come home.  Love is vital..  love is life..  breathing and love, and many beautiful hugs…  also music.  the important stuff.

 

 

 

 

 

Starting Over…

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This is the hardest thing I have had to do in my entire life.  A lot of these posts were made while I was in school.  Well, school fucked me over so I cannot finish my 20 credits it will take to graduate.  They are calling me wanting money and frankly that pisses me off.

Whatever you do, do NOT and I repeat NOT attend a for profit college, they will rip you off.  Not by hundreds of dollars, but by 10,000 dollars…  From nowhere.  All of a sudden I owed this money and no one at the school will speak to me.  Shocker.

This happened months ago, so my anger is nearly gone.  I am just sad and broken.
I have fibromyalgia and from what I just read, it won’t matter that I go to school because I am going to forget it all anyway.  When people have FMS their grey matter melts away.  I am looking at pissing my diaper by the time I am 60 and I won’t lie, that one is a bit more difficult to get over.

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It would be different if my partner in life (husband) would be supportive, but no such luck.  He refuses to do more research and insists that I am wrong.  Others just tell me that if I do brain exercises it will help.

The thing is, I read the articles, I did he research and I am screwed.  I wanted to leave my house.  I wanted to walk away so that they don’t have to watch me lose my fucking mind.  I got screamed at, that I was selfish.  I am not so sure that I cannot be selfish here..  I am losing my fucking mind.  How many hugs do you think my husband gave me?  One..  One fucking hug and I had to ask him for it.

I don’t have anyone to turn to.  No one wants to talk about a thing that is so terrifying.  No one wants to know that I am losing it, mostly because they are so scared that it might happen to them, I suppose.

I am close to suicide every minute of every day.  I don’t want to shit my pants.  I don’t want some stranger wiping my ass for me.  I can’t.  I won’t.  I don’t know what the answer is yet, but dammit, regardless of what it is, I will make this stop.  I refuse to live in a diaper.   When the very people screaming at me not to go, I wonder how they would feel if they were in my shit filled velcro shoes.

I am only 40 years old.  Fuck me…  I gave my life to my family and my kids and my husband and now I am mostly alone in the knowledge that I am losing it because no one wants to talk about it.

I am up in the air when it comes to making a decision.  I know that I am losing my shit now that I know the truth about FMS.  I have to try and calm, down and make a decent decision.  I love my family so much, but I know that all they want is the old Tammie back.  I wish she existed.

 

 

 

Do Not Kill Yourself, Your Reasons are Stupid

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Do Not Kill Yourself, Your Reasons are Stupid

Recently I have been in a very dark place.  Not just thinking about suicide, but actually planning it..  and not because I was bored and sad either.  I scared myself.  Then I thought some more about the whole horrible mess and I realized that I would be killing myself because of school.  Not that there are any good reasons to off yourself, but school?  Something I can fix?  Fuck that, I want be alive because I am needed here.

I can talk about suicide with a blasé attitude because I have a chronic illness.  I am quite certain I am not alone by playing the Suicide Game in my head.  That has always been enough.  I would think of ways to do it.  I would think about places.  I never planned to do it.  Ever.  My chronic pain warriors can tell you the same, this is just yet another thing that most people do not talk about.

I will add here AND FUCKING PAY ATTENTION..  if you are really scared for yourself, check yourself into the psych ward for a couple of days.  It is not like you see in the movies, they take care of you and you get the help you need.

So, back to my thing.  I have woken up crying for 4 days.  School is out for now.  I need 10,000 bucks.  Old news, I know.  Today I woke up in a good mood.

The thing that bothers me the most is this; people have so much money.  I have seen them, we all have.  They earned it, I absolutely believe that they can do whatever they want with it.  That said, I am crying and screaming and pounding for 10 grand when some other person has that in their safe at home for emergencies.

Some of them help their communities, some of them are amazing, I just wish I had the means at my fingertips and I could pay for school and start to help.  I do not want to be rich.  Once the boys are out, I am all about having a tiny house.

So, the upside is that I am no longer staring at the bottle with stars in my eyes..  I am safe from myself.  This is a test.  Just how patient can I be?  Just how hard am I willing to work?  Only time will tell, except fuck that..  I got this.  I learned to live with a debilitating disorder, surely I can figure out my next step.

Some Entertainment and Fun

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Okay, so I know that I have a following of FMS warriors and I usually talk about that.  However, today I am going to tell a couple of stories that should make you laugh.  They are at least entertaining. I will start with the most recent.  I am a car girl.  I have been since I was in high school.

I changed a tire, by myself, in the middle of Lancaster city.  I love cars.  My favorite car is a BMW E30.  Now, don’t get it wrong. These are not the BMW you are thinking of.  E30’s are for driving.  That’s it.  That is why they are so amazing.  Here is a picture of mine.  They don’t even have cup holders..  they are for driving.  Period. 11001918_10206279604375293_829973652130744141_n I named her Envy and she is the best car ever.  I don’t plan on ever having another car..  ever.  So, OKAY…  the rest of the story.. I was on my way somewhere when a car pulled out in front of me, but really it was going to T-bone me..  I channeled my inner race car driver and because I was in that car ^^ the one you see up there..  I managed to do the coolest maneuver ever. I cut the wheel to the left so far that if it was any other car I would have spun out.

This was the decisive moment of the day..  I should have spun out..  thanks to Envy I didn’t.  I literally fishtailed, steering into the spin for a good 50 yards..  I was in control the whole time. I should be dead.  I should be dead and Envy is supposed to be wrecked.  I did hit him..  there is a tiny crack in my front bumper.  We can fix her very easily. I got out of the car and the ass hole tried to yell that it was an accident.  There was a guy in a truck on the other side of the intersection who looked like this: Close-up of surprised man's face, with open mouth.   He couldn’t believe that I managed to mostly miss the ass hat in the buick..  I am also sure that he stuck around in case I needed a witness.  He just ended up seeing the coolest, worst, scariest car accident ever.

THEN icing on the cake..  this tie dyed hippy lady jumps out of the car and starts screaming at the idiot that pulled out without looking onto a 55 MPH road.  I gave him the finger with both of my hands, checked the bumper.. and left.

Now, up until this point I was operating on pure adrenaline.  Then I crashed from the adrenaline…  for someone with fibro to crash is to get this ache in your brain.  Worse than any headache, I am pretty sure it is PTSD.  I had my phone hooked up so I could hands free talk.. I was bawling my eyes out by this point.  I pulled into a really busy gas station and called Jason..  that phone call went something like this…

I had the window down and at least 10 people staring at me in my car doing that ^^I literally hit the guy, but managed to swing around so no more damage was done on my Envy…  Moral of the story..  Get a BMW..  NO OTHER car I have ever had would have avoided total destruction like Envy did.

D is for Disabled

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I have been remiss in my writing lately.  I attend school and it has been really tough lately.  I keep telling myself it’s because the classes are more difficult (which is true) but I also know that my thinking and logic are pretty broken.  For the new people reading this; know that I write from my fibromyalgia brain.  The sentences might run on, or not.  I may use the wrong word or seem really random.  I write for folks with fibro so I write FOR them by not trying to have perfect structure or grammar. I type what is in my brain and that seems to work.  I want to reach a large audience and I know how difficult it is for me to read long paragraphs. I very much want to get the the point, eventually.

Today I am talking about flare ups and disability.  <— there, a thesis.  Yes, I also try for the occasional giggle.

I am writing this today for two audiences.  I am teaming up with a new friend that has RA.  Her name is Allyssa Marie.  Fibro warriors have a lot in common with people that have RA.  Hell, we have a lot in common with anyone who is in pain all the time.  No one else can understand and for that I am glad, I wouldn’t wish this on anyone.

Now, I also like to keep my paragraphs short and to the point, this is a Fibro thing.  So once again, structure suffers a little bit, but I want everyone who reads this to find it easy and informative read.  I wanted to start this post with some information about fibromyalgia flares.  I know that warriors with RA also flare up.  What I don’t know is if it is like our flare ups, or if it is different.

See, last week I was having a huge flare.  I was miserable and I couldn’t think in a sentence, let alone speak in sentences.  That one is what I call my thinking flare, it is usually accompanied by some burning on my skin and a feeling like my hair is growing.

I have another flare up and this is the one I call my physical flare.  This is what I am suffering right now, since yesterday.  It took me several tries to get out of bed.  My hands feel like they are going to blow up at any second.  My head feels the same, my vision is blurry, and I am working up the energy to take a badly needed shower because, yes, I put them off because they make me so tired.

It sucks so bad to get out of bed when it hurts to move.  However, a bit of advice?  I learned that staying in bed unless I am sleeping or getting lucky is not a good idea, no matter how badly you want to stay. It is called sleep hygiene and you have to force yourself to stay out of bed.  I promise, it sounds like torture but it is not.  It takes a while, and some nights I don’t even try, but it does really work.  I break the rules at times and take a nap but only if I am falling asleep where I stand, which brings me to the third type of flare.

This flare up is so intense in involves every muscle, nerve ending, ache, pain, and a feeling like your skin is on fire.  Those flares are so intense the only thing to do is lay down, you are not capable of anything else.  Which brings me to my next topic…  disability.

I belong to a lot of groups on Facebook and every single day I see people getting really excited because they have been given disability.  I am happy for them, but I thought that I could do this.  I thought that I could accomplish something.  I wasn’t wrong, but I am disabled.

I was a heroin addict 15 years ago for about three months.  Luckily I stayed off opiates easily after that, even with fibro.  However, I had to come out to my mom and everyone else I loved.  I had to say, “I am a heroin addict”.  I thought those would be the worst thing I would ever have to admit about myself out loud.  I was so very wrong.

Having to say yes, I am disabled, I need help.  I need some income. That was the hardest thing I have ever admitted. Saying  “I am disabled” still makes my stomach hurt.  My family has suffered greatly because I was no longer able to work.  It still took 4 years to get a diagnosis.  I know that I will get it this time.  My heart is broken.  I was a dancer, a ballerina.  I was a cheerleader in high school.  Now I can barely get into the bleachers to watch my son be the drum major.

It is interesting on my paperwork for disability they asked me where I hurt.  I laughed and laughed.  Everywhere, is what I answered.  Then it asked me several more times, in different ways, and every single answer was everywhere and always.  So, I even got to laugh a bit while I was filling it out.  Knowing though, owning, the title of disabled is a crushing blow.  I know that I am.  I knew that I was a drug addict.  This does not make it easier to say.

I used to work at the PA Renaissance faire putting women into corsets.  I loved it.  I loved making women beautiful.  I also had to quit there.  I want to go and see all my friends that still work there and I am wondering if one can rent a hoverround.  I couldn’t even make it to the front gate without needing to rest.

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These things could all bring me down.  These things could all make me want to quit..  to give up. However, these things only make me want to work harder.  No one and I mean NO ONE and NOTHING can change the way that I live but I am the only one in charge of my brain.

I choose happiness over misery.  I choose to laugh when I know I need to.  I choose life, no matter that I have to crawl sometimes..  I choose to live my best life.  I also choose to be happy.  You have the power, in your brain, to control your own destiny.  It isn’t gone, nothing important is gone.  It’s simply different and we just have to learn to love ourselves when our settings are on “different”.

It is so damn hard to try and explain what it is like when your brain and mouth refuse to work together.  I have worked for years to make my sons and my husband understand.  They finally do.  Want to know how I made that miracle happen?  I stopped trying to explain myself.

I didn’t hide anything (except the pain, we all do that) I just existed.  I stopped trying to make them understand and I started to live my best life in a whole new way.  I interacted with them and if I struggled to find words, I didn’t explain, I just make up words.  They will eventually learn your language. This new method, the one where we exist and let them watch, works.  It takes a lot of patience and a long time, but you will get there.  If I can do it anyone can.

For my words, when I lose them, conversation goes something like this :”Are we going to the field thingy to watch Rudolpho Hans play running ball?”  Which translates to, “Are we going to the stadium to watch the Saints play football?”  I know that first one was mostly inane gibberish.  However, I got A sentence out.  They will start to learn your language, I promise.

This just happened…  an example of my speech issues: in a text to my husband, “Except smokes.  The shenanigans cigs.  No… Monrovia..  dammit.. Morgan…  Fuck it.  Those cheap ones” That was my text to my husband.

I know that I should quit…  that isn’t why I shared this.  I shared this because it is real life..  My life…  Maybe yours too.  The cigs are Mavericks, I finally thought of it.  I really have to laugh..  this is funny.  I should write children’s books, I am excellent at coming up with fun, meaningless, quirky words.  They are easier than regular language most people use to communicate.

Warriors and new friends with RA it has been a pleasure to write some words for you all, maybe I can help a couple people.  Remember, always, LIVE, LOVE, and FIGHT ..  We got this.

Family and Pain and Fibromyalgia.. Lessons I Learned

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Family and Pain and Fibromyalgia..  Lessons I Learned

There are so many facets of relationsips with your family, it’s almost endless.  I am with the other side of the family today.  The one’s that we only get to see at Christmas.  I wish I could be with family like this instead of the judgmental mess I currently have.

I have one brother, at home, whom I love with all my heart.  His kids are amazing and I love them so much.  My mom is pretty great.  She is there for us, no matter what.

If not for my mother I would be strung out on heroin, lost my children, and never been able to fix my marriage in a time of crisis for us.  My mother is the most angelic person I know, and with her it isn’t an act, it is her true nature.  I know that I get my drive to do the right thing from my mom.  She is the most selfless person I know and I am so proud that she is my mama.

That said, being around this side of the family half of me feels so much sadness that it feels like it might wash me under.

The other half of me feels so loved and accepted that I never want to leave.

I cannot be myself around any of the people at home.  They don’t really know, they cannot know me, they will never understand me.  I can’t let my mother know me, she would be heartbroken that I am certainly (in her world) going to her hell.  I love my mother too much for her to worry that I may go to hell.  No matter that I don’t agree with her views on religion, I can deal with that quietly enough…  I simply don’t want to worry my mom.

It is so refreshing that yesterday I went with everyone to go see the new building that my sister in law bought to use as an exercise studio.  She does Zumba, and has hip hop classes and yoga.  It is wonderfully done.  It is beautiful.  I walked in with her and her mama.  I watched her mama have a very dignified SQUEEEE proud of my baby moment and I loved it with every fiber of my being.

Then I remembered telling my mother about the warriors when they send me thank you notes, or when one says to me
“I felt alone until now”.  She acknowledges it, however, with nary a nod of the head.  I wanted so badly, when I told her I was published on Wild Woman, for her to have a squee moment.

I woke up today determined not to compare one with the other.  Things are how they are, and instead of feeling sad because we are so far away from the people that would never consider missing my kid in a play, or missing him at a football game when he is the Drum Major…. I must be happy to have this time now.  Fill up my love meter.  Remember throughout the year that these people exist and hope with all my heart to move closer so we can see more of the people that are simply too far away.

I see so many warriors whom have been hurt by those they love.  Don’t allow that sort of behavior.  We have to work so hard to walk, talk, make sense, etc..  the least they can do is join with you in that journey.  If they don’t, walk away.  It hurts and it sucks for a while, but once you heal a bit you realize that they were simply holding you back from healing your heart.

Concerning my brother..  he works very hard and he and I are inseparable.  I love him and his wife and his kids so much.  They are wonderful and I am so thankful for them because they do show for my kid.  I don’t get to see him much because he and his friends are very different from me.  We are like oil and water, and as much as I want more time with him I am grateful for the time that I have.

I suppose the purpose of writing this is to point out that we  all have those that we should never take for-granted.  We know the dark side of those we thought loved us.  We have been so fucking hurt by people who are supposed to care.  Always remember, that even if your loved ones are on the internet..  they still exist.  We exist.  I fight for all of us.

You are NOT ALONE…