Seems this world is not one for emotions. It seems these days the slightest show of emotion has doctors whipping out their prescription pads and family members running for cover. My Rheumatologist once stated that I needed help for my depression because “most people with Fibromyalgia don’t cry in my office”. This, I will point out, well discussing that fact that my symptoms were so severe I had to leave my job. Really? It’s not normal to feel sad, angry and distraught when your illness takes your life away? Really? My mother used to tell me about the days that doctors where so oblivious to what women were going through that they would suggest that an upset women just ‘needs a new blue dress’. I ask you, is today any different? Now we seem just to need a nice pink pill. Well golly gee, if only I’d known doing nothing could be this satisfying. So peaceful and serene . . .
I sometimes it feels like I am the only one who is concerned about anything anymore. Quite frankly, I find this lack of worry rather worrisome. I wonder, where on earth we’d be if some of the great minds of the past had their sense of urgency dulled. What if simply ‘being’ had been enough for Beethoven? Why is there is no room for urgency in this world? No room to panic that something might not get finished, ’cause hey, you know what, everything is just fine. Something bugging you? That was in the past man, don’t look at it, let it go. Why dwell? Well, maybe Van Gough has the answer. Do you think he ever dwelled in a place in his mind that others may not have found as beautiful as his paintings? I certainly think so.
I actually don’t think we are meant to be happy all of the time. Content all of the time. There are reasons to grieve that go beyond the everyday accepted time limits for grief. What about regret? Don’t you miss regret? Shouldn’t everybody have regrets? There is something that happens to us as people when we refuse to regret. It’s ok to regret something, and move on. It’s ok to revisit regret from time to time so we don’t make the same mistakes over and over again. It’s ok to remember. Does it hurt? Sometimes, but that’s ok too. It’s ok to grieve. People seem to always push to get rid of hurt for fear that it will hold them back. But sometimes I think that dulling the hurt, the non-acknowledgement of the hurt can hold us back even more. Some days are just sad. We work really hard to teach that to our children, that it’s ok to feel. Then we work extra hard to make sure we never show them. It seems we’re supposed to work extra hard to not show anyone. So, to my Rheumatologist; it’s my life and I’ll cry if I want to! You would cry too, if it happened to you.
Whatever lullaby was sung to fibro babies must have been the worst lullaby ever. Shush now, while you sleep you’ll be run over by a steamroller and upon wakening suffer the effects, lalalala. Though I suppose the more traditional falling out of a tree ‘cradle and all’ would probably suffice. I’m thinking this is why I am a night owl. It is very hard for a person to motivate themselves to go to bed when they wake up feeling much worse then when they retired. There are some theories that people with Fibromyalgia do not reach the deepest stage of sleep. The stage where the body repairs all that they’ve done to it during the day, the stage where a body makes itself strong enough to do it all again the next day.
In my family it has always taken two of us for me to do anything. As a child, even when I was long past the age of needing to be tended to, an adult had to make sure I was fully out of bed and had my eyes wide open before leaving me to my own devices. I would have never made it to school otherwise. In my last job my husband played a vital role. It’s quite funny really, when you picture it. There I was, in a position where I was hiring a full staff for a manufacturing company, writing policies and developing employee orientations, and if my husband had not packed my briefcase for me I never would have even made it there. He used to set his alarm for half an hour before I had to get up. He’d use that time to start waking me up. He’d make me a coffee, pack up my computer and my lunch, iron my clothes, help me into them and drive me to work. He’s sweet as pie but a person can only maintain that for so long.
So what to do with mornings. Wish I could tell you. They now extend past when my husband leaves for work so they happen a little slower. On the days when he’s home he still makes me coffee though I love that the man doesn’t even drink coffee yet he can make a perfect latte. I don’t know how to make the mornings better. I know that I probably need sleep so I have to convince myself to go to bed and get to sleep. A person with Fibromyalgia doesn’t experience feeling refreshed by sleep so even when the tiredness hurts, it doesn’t hurt as much as the morning. So it’s a tough sell. This sleeping on treetops.
I really love the power of music. Turn on some upbeat music around babies, toddlers or preschoolers and guess what they do, dance! No one teaches them to dance, they just move when they hear music. I think that’s pretty cool. I also think they’re onto something. So, now that I’ve made you all cry with the Dala song (sorry M!), here’s my dancing song. Now the funny thing is, I put this song on when I need to muster up the energy to gather up the laundry -and I had never actually seen the video for this song before today. Hey Ocean! you make laundry fun! “A Song About California”