It’s the Little Things. . .

There are some big things that fibromyalgia has caused a kink in – like my future career plans for instance. But there are also those little, day-to-day, things . . . and somehow those little things hurt a lot more. I have been trying to get away from stressing over the big picture of my life and just getting on one day at a time, and there’s where those little things kick in to make me feel like crap.

Warning: This is a brutally honest (aka complainey/whiney) post. I don’t like to do very many of these but every now and then, I feel the need to keep it real out here in my blogosphere. So here goes! And to describe everything that my words could not, is the featured image – my tribute to Edvard Munch – called Silent Scream (8X10, oil on canvas).

Last few days I haven’t been doing so well with the weather changing constantly. My pseudo-neuropathy has been raging in my arms and legs with stinging, shooting pains that leave my limbs numb/”asleep” even after the major wave of pain subsides for a bit. I have been breathing shallow because my chest and back near the lungs have been in pain, and it hurts to breathe. The occasional deep breaths have felt like knife stabs in my back. Shoulders, neck, head – not much was spared the assault of the weather(PMSing teenage-wo)man. (No offense to women, I am one myself, just with a twisted sense of humor). So long story short, I have been a physical wreck, trying to hold my brain as together as possible while functioning on pain killers, which historically have only added to my brain-fog when I have it.

On a day like this a bunch of us decided to do lunch together. Our boss was buying us lunch and driving us there. (I was surprised when I found myself not making an excuse to get out of it. I owe my new-found confidence to my physical therapist. Or maybe I was just too foggy to come up with an excuse!) Anyhow, I went and I ended up being the slowest walker of the lot. Everyone else, except for a friend who hung around with me, got to the car several minutes before I did and had to wait for me. I hated this tremendously because I could just imagine them in there talking about me and how pathetic I was. Although I tried to joke it away, I heard only one awkward laugh. I can’t imagine them being very pleased about having to wait to feed somebody a free lunch. I hated that they had to wait for me because that is something I generally dislike. I am the kind of person that likes to get places early and wait for others, instead of having it the other way around. Besides, I used to be one of the fastest walkers not that long ago! And now I can barely keep pace with a snail. And don’t even talk about stairs!

Have you ever been on a bus that had to kneel and wait extra long at a stop to let on a wheelchair-bound person? And everybody is politely quiet but secretly annoyed at that wheelchair-bound person slowing them down? At first, the wheelchair-bound person looks steadily down and acts occupied by strapping themselves in, as they feel the annoyed-but-too-polite-to-say-anything stares from the other passengers. Then as the bus starts to move, they try to smile at the person next to them and make small talk to show that the stares hadn’t really bothered them. But they secretly know that it did. And I know because I felt like that wheelchair-bound person, even though I wasn’t in a wheelchair.

Anyway, a few good things came out of this, I suppose. (1) Although I am always grateful to my friend that often hangs around (slowly) with me, I was infinitely more grateful for his company that day. (2) My husband reminded me of how I always walked so much faster than him and left him behind – at least I won’t be doing that anymore! That one made me chuckle amidst my tears, because now he is often my walking stick. (3) It taught me a valuable lesson that I should probably avoid large group thingamajigs like that and only go out with a small cluster of friends that I feel more comfortable with. (4) I applied lesson #3 yesterday and avoided a large group of friends to spend time with an old friend and her new husband, and had an amazing time! That was one of those little things that really made my day! So all hope is not lost for my social life after all!!



10 thoughts on “It’s the Little Things. . .

  1. Tough stuff. I admire you for still trying despite it all. It has to be hell. I’m sure it feels like whining or whatever to you, but it’s just truth. Hopefully there’s a carthasis in just getting it out there. Wish you well πŸ™‚

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you so much!!! I really appreciate your kindness and support. I am somebody that generally keeps the nasty truth well-hidden from the public, but I also feel like I need to work on that aspect of my personality and try to open up more. I guess this blog (though under an alias) is my first step to doing that. So you are right, it is the truth, and it needs to be said, even though it feels like whining to me . . . if only to get it out of my system! Thank you for reminding me of that!! πŸ™‚ I hope you are doing well!

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Thanks so much for sharing your story with us. I felt really positive after reading it, you weren’t ‘whining’ at all. I loved reading how you turned this difficult experience into a lesson! You helped me remember to be grateful for my healthy body. Thank you! May your pain easy swiftly and may you never loose the power to transform a negative experience into a useful lesson xx

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you so much for your kind words, Isabella! I really appreciate your thoughts very much. I strive to find some good in almost everything (after complaining about the nasty part in private, LOL). I learned this trick from a book I read as a child called the Secret Garden by Frances H. Burnett and it has served me well. πŸ™‚ I am glad that reading my post reminded you to be grateful. Reading you saying that reminded me to be grateful for all the good in my life as well!! So thank you very much indeed for sharing your thoughts with me. It was a win-win for us both, haha! ❀

      Liked by 2 people

    1. I am both glad and sad that you could relate to the post! Sometimes I fear stirring up bad memories in others when I complain, knowing that I probably have it better than so many; but I also hope that somebody somewhere might feel less alone after having similar experiences upon reading about mine. So in that context, I am very glad that you liked the post! Thank you so much for sharing that with me! πŸ™‚

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Any memories stirred up lead to some sort of a cathartic response and the “feeling less alone” thing outweighs all sadness. It is really really helpful. I owe much of the improvements I have gained (in the lack of any real medical help) to the internet and in that the shared experiences of people have been a huge huge help. Thank you for sharing. You don’t know whose life you are saving some day just by writing your story… It was out of this sheer gratitude that I started a blog but I find myself unable to write as eloquently or to write real stuff that I am facing. I am grateful that some people do…

        Liked by 1 person

    2. Thank you so much for the support and encouragement! I really appreciate it. πŸ™‚ I remember how it felt when I first read the story of another young lady in graduate school with fibromyalgia on PhDisabled, and how grateful I felt towards for saying all the things that I felt. I am still in touch with her in fact, and was encouraged by her to start the blog as well. If I can pay it forward by touching even one person’s life, I would consider it my privilege to have been able to do so. And I am so grateful to you for supporting me through this journey! ❀ πŸ™‚


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