Category Archives: Friends

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.

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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.

 

 

 

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.

Friends, Please Read. I Remember, Then I Broke, I Miss My Life.. I Want You Back

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Friends, Please Read. I Remember, Then I Broke, I Miss My Life..  I Want You Back

I am 39 years old.  I have two sons, who I had when I was still young.  They are 17 and 18 years old.  I remember that feeling, when I was young and married to an Army guy..  I remember when the grocery store was my “get out of the house” card.  I always felt slighted because I wanted to do the fun stuff the other people my age were doing.

Now I am more than happy to only leave the house in a weeks time to go to Walmart.  With fibromyalgia everything is more difficult, going out nearly takes an act of congress.  Putting on a bra nearly does me in these days.

I have friends and I am afraid to hang out with them because I am afraid that they won’t like the new me.  I am so much different, I am scared to lose them as friends.  I miss them so much.  But the fear of losing them forever keeps me away.

They live far away, so it isn’t that difficult to maintain contact on the internet..  Because then I show them what I want them to see.  I don’t want to be dishonest, but I am fucking terrified that none of you will like me anymore.

I found occasional help with the boys and I have had a great life, but I remember…  I remember saying to my husband, “yeah you think that going to Walmart counts as an outing” and at the time I remember..  It didn’t count, I struggled for a long time.

Incredibly bored and lonely, this was before internet, this was before cell phones.  I remember that I was different and I could walk and I could think and I had friends; some of which are still my friends, from afar, because I am fucking terrified that they won’t like who I have become.

I could keep up with my boys.  I got lucky there.  I stayed healthy while they grew.  Healthy enough to really make up for how shitty I was in the beginning.  Then I was 30 and I had to re-evaluate.  I remember when I felt like I had it all.

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I remember getting a manager job at Walmart, where I literally walked miles every single day.  I remember thinking even though the job was sort of shitty, I had it all.  I was able to camp all weekend with my family.

I remember.   I remember having rough times, with drugs, with myself, with my marriage.  I fought and struggled and we fixed our marriage, I fixed how I was with my kids..  I still didn’t think it counted as a trip out when all I was doing was going to Walmart.  But I was happy.  I was happy and I didn’t take it for-granted..  thank the light for that.

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I spent many years content.

I couldn’t wait to hang out at the Happy Hippy Haven every single weekend.  During those parties I never had a bed, I was able to sleep on the floor, or not sleep, which was often the case.  However, I had the time of my life.

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I remember watching my kids grow and that will forever be the best accomplishment I am likely to make.  They are beautiful people who are going to make the world a better place and I am more proud of that achievement than anything else I can imagine for myself.

So, I worked..  I was there for three years.  They were pretty great.  We had money.  We finally found an awesome rental house.  Things were going our way.  I even went and I bought a brand new Kia.

Then I started feeling like my lower back was numb, and I would get horrible shooting pains.  Then I remember hanging some shirts above my head and holding my arm up seemed to be harder and harder every day, and this really scared me because it was summer, the stuff was not heavy.

I remember when a co-worker made a joke and tapped me on my arm and it HURT, and it hurt for a really long time.  I knew that day that something was seriously wrong.  I felt in my gut that this was the beginning of something.

I remember when I used to take comfort in a shower.  I remember when I could hang out with my friends.  I remember when I could dance and spin records.  I wish so very much that I could forget, because even as I type it brings tears to my eyes.  I miss my life.  I miss my friends.

I have spent the last few years figuring out who I am, with this life altering disorder.  My whole life is different.  Everything is different.  I love getting to go to Walmart once a week.  I am really good at being happy with what I have.

I fucking want more.  I want to see more of my friends.  I want to try more stuff.  I miss my life, but I will be damned if I lose another second of living to this fucked up monster that lives in my brain.

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Please text me friends.  I miss you.  I want you to decide for yourself if you still want to hang out.  Having a few left is so much better than closing myself off to all of you.  I get it if I am too much..  but I will not give up without trying.

Live, Love, and fight like a girl ❤