The Bad Blog

It’s been a while since I’ve blogged, and though there’s a reason, I’ve been holding back from blogging about it.

In fact, I’ve been undecided since we started this blog about whether or not I’d blog about the subject at all. For one, this is a blog about growing up and while this certainly defines my version of “growing up”, it deviates so far away from everyone else’s version of “growing up” that I can’t argue it into the margin of error. And for two, it’s something that I usually avoid talking about. In fact, it’s something that actually took me a year to be comfortable telling anyone about at all - let alone announcing it to the world wide web.

But unfortunately at this stage in my life its becoming so overwhelming that its keeping me from blogging - both physically keeping me from being able to sit down at my laptop, and mentally keeping me from having anything to blog about.

I have fibromyalgia. The name probably sounds familiar, meaning that you’ve seen the commercial on at 2 o’clock in the afternoon where a silver haired old lady talks about her aches and pains and then supposes that the upcoming drug (and all the surgeon’s general warnings with very fine print) help her to live a normal life.

Well, I’m 22 years old and I feel like I’m doing about as well as a 78 year old lady. at least for now my hair is still brown.

Fibromyalgia wreaks havoc on your body. It makes you joints hurt, your muscles hurt, all the way down to your knuckles and your fingertips. There is never a day where my pain level is below a 4 or 5 - and those are the days I consider “good days.” My body is in a constant nerve war, leaving me continually exhausted physically and often cloudy and unfocused mentally.

I say this and it all makes sense to me, however I know that most people who read this will simply pass it off as “yea, I have days like that too” or think of me as a whinny hypochondriac who can’t handle being a little under the weather.

Well, I’m going on 3-years of being “under the weather” - a turbulent up and down, where I never know how I’m going to wake up the next morning. I’m tired of waking up each day and doing a mental check - legs good, knees bad, lower back is fine but my throat muscles are so stiff I can barely breathe. The last couple of months have been even worse as the doctor is trying to adjust my medication, leaving me in near tears every morning when it’s time to crawl out of bed.

It’s hard to explain, and even harder to explain how others should deal with the info. I don’t want to be treated differently, to have others tip toe around me or think that every time I sniffle it’s because of the fibro. (It’s not.) and yet, I need people to know and understand that I’m not a lazy or an unreliable friend when I constantly have to shift or back out of things.

I wish I was a normal twenty something, and most of the time I try to pretend that it’s so. I think I do a pretty good job of it. I push myself to go to parties and say yes to movie invitations, even when I know that it will be a mental game of “I think I can” to get myself through. Most days, it’s an accomplishment to make it through a 9-hour day at work, and when the clock hits 5:30 a sense of relief overcomes me that I haven’t fallen apart yet.

I don’t want to be like this. I’m not the introvert who wants to stay her room all day and follow friends on facebook who are out having marvelous adventures. I want to be out there, doing fun, crazy and insane things that you’re supposed to do in your twenties. But sometimes I feel like it’s going to take my entire twenties to fight through this miserable disease, and that by the time I come out on the other side I’ll find myself in adulthood having to “grow up” - when “growing up” is the only thing I’ve been doing the last year and a half that I’ve been on this regimen.

I wish this post wasn’t so disheartening or so sad, or that I had some cheery “so what do you think” to add to the end of it, but the fact is - life just kind of sucks right now. I feel like I’ve hit a rut - and this disease is only helping to turn the rut into a deep endless pit that I’ll never get out of. This week I’m making another trek over to the doctor to figure out what is going on, though that never seems to be the final answer. So, for now, excuse the spotty posting - if I ever get back to feeling close to normal again, I promise you more blogs will resume.