I'm incredibly sad, confused, angry, even full of rage at times over what this has done to my life, to the woman that I once was. Being the kind of person who is in her own head a lot, I ask myself questions. I try to do the work of self-analyzation, healing and growth. I thought I would share some of the questions that I ask myself regarding living with this disease:
How do you live with constant pain and not be angry?
How do you live with constant pain and not hate your own body at times?
How do you not see your body as the enemy?
How do you see all of the changes to your life and not want to scream and cry?
How do you witness the changes to the lives of your loved ones and not feel guilt?
How do you not grieve the person you once were compared to who you are forced to be now?
How many times do you have to whisper, "Why me, God?"
How many times do you have to talk yourself out of feeling like a burden to those who love you? Like you are trapping them into living this life with you, because they don't want to be the jerk that leaves over it or the person who avoids you.
How many times do you open your mouth to try and communicate what's happening to you on every level, only to close it because you can't even explain it?
How often do you push past the inexplicable agony and staggering exhaustion to do the things that need to be done? Cooking, cleaning, laundry, errands, interacting with people.
How often do you wake up in the morning and have to talk yourself into getting up because it hurts and you're so damned tired?
How often are you full of sorrow over having to give up a job, a career, school and you now feel like an unproductive member of society?
How do you help people to understand why you can't spend time with them or go do fun things that they want to share with you, because you're in too much pain, you're too tired, or you dread the flare that will inevitably happen because you did 'too much' according to the limitations fibromyalgia has placed upon you?
How do you stop yourself from beating your fists against the limitations?
How many times do you have to revisit stages within the five stages of grief?
Why do I work so hard to hide my symptoms, tears and emotions from my loved ones?
When I do talk about it, do people get tired of listening? Do they understand how difficult it is for me to share?
How do I make people understand that they cannot fix me?
What happens if the medicines quit working? How will I ever live with that level of agony?
Would it be better, unselfish to let people go so they can have a more fulfilling life than what living with a sick person provides?
Why is every day of this disease different? So different that navigating it is nearly impossible because -nothing- seems stable. It feels like the foundation I stand on is trembling, crumbling.
Why won't some people believe that I'm sick? How could they ever think I would make up something as awful as this is? How could they believe I would choose to live like this?
How do I accept that I will always be ill?
Am I a burden?
Am I still pretty?
Am I still sexy?
Am I still smart or funny?
Am I less than I was?
I have precious few answers to those questions. I realize that rather than doing better with this, I might be doing worse in some areas. Fibromyalgia has progressed on every level. It is too big for me.
I have always been a strong person, a strong and fierce woman in the face of any crisis. Fibromyalgia puts me to my knees, begging for answers, for a sense of peace within my illness, within my whole life, as it is now. Next week I start therapy. I feel both a sense of dread and relief. I am hopeful. I'm scared.
No comments:
Post a Comment