Weekly Photo Challenge: Out of this World

Seeing a flare to its end (or what I hope is the end anyway) is a feeling truly out of this world!

After being stuck in the tunnel for so long, to finally see some light at the end, is a delightful feeling.

Featured image: Creation, oil on 18X24″ canvas (available)

And yet I struggle with the thought that this is as good as it’s ever going to get. For everyone else, life expands, they incorporate more and more experiences as they move forward. And I am happy if it simply doesn’t contract any more! I move forward too, but always against the wind, and always aware of the limitations.

And yet, as a human being, we register differences in condition more than so than the absolute value of it. This means that despite all the limits placed on me, my instant reaction is one of pure joy, an expansion of consciousness, to realize that I am improving from a worse-off state. That what I am improving to is what most people would consider “lazying” bothers me only when I think about it in more intellectual terms, ignoring my emotional reaction to it.

I realize that my initial happiness is only dampened because I still compare my state to that of other healthy people my age. I compare it to what I used to be at one time, what I remember feeling like but haven’t felt like in a long time. But with a chronic condition like fibromyalgia, my world now spins at a different speed than it does for others my age, than it would have for me if I hadn’t developed this condition. It is not fair to compare apples to oranges.

I have learned to see that slowed spin rate on neutral terms — it has some good and some bad, just like there would have been had my world kept revolving faster. But sometimes I can’t help but feel that the existence of the difference itself is somehow mocking.

At one time, I thought I was closer to accepting my situation. And I was, but only under the circumstances I had grown comfortable in. As my circumstances changed, I realized I am on this journey anew.

Ever reaching for the light . . . thinking I feel its warmth . . . but then my world takes another spin, and I am back in the dim, reaching for the light again.

The painting in the featured image explores many of these emotions that expand through time and space. I am sure everyone has something they are struggling with, where they feel they are locked in a tunnel, and are forever reaching for the light. I think of that when I feel I am fighting an unfair battle, and try to not feel so alone in it. I try to think of the progress I am making, and remind myself to simply breathe.

Perhaps the important thing is not to win the battle, but simply to keep fighting it, and fighting it well. And all the while allowing yourself to feel the joy of small victories, however small they may be, just to feel like it’s not all in vain.

Love,

Fibronacci

 

Each painting has a story, one that I strive to tell here. Since many of them have to do with my journey with fibromyalgia, a fraction of the sales from my paintings will go to the American Fibromyalgia Syndrome Association (AFSA), who fund research into this poorly understood condition. If the paintings and/or the cause touch your heart, as they do mine, please feel free to contact me here or through my Facebook page for more information. Thank you for accompanying me on this journey!

Hitting the Reset Button in my Brain

I feel like the last flare kind of put me in a less-than-positive state of mind. Too many of my posts are talking about hardships of living with a chronic condition. While I don’t mean to shy away from being honest, and I don’t believe in deluding myself with positivity when things could obviously be better, I do believe that our state of mind can affect the state of our bodies. Letting out the frustration of a prolonged flare is helpful, but remaining in that angry, frustrated mode does no one any good.

So I have been on a journey to try and reset my mind to be a in a quieter, more peaceful place. I have had varying levels of success with the strategies I used, and I am sharing my thoughts on them here in case it can help someone else in a similar boat.

1. Take time by the moments instead of days.

The idea here is to just get through this moment in time and on to the next, and not think any further forward or backward. I try to keep busy at work, and ignore my body as much as I can. I have also taken to spending my evenings resting completely (unless I go for my pool exercise class). Sometimes I may play a crossword with my husband. We have fun, we goof off, we laugh when we make up silly words; I seem to relax. Throughout the day, I try to keep my focus mainly on the task at hand.

For the most part, this strategy works. When taking time moment to moment, I seem to be alright.

. . . But then a thought will pop up in my head about the next day that’s about to come, and I feel this dread. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I mind my job, I really like it in fact. What I dread is the struggle that going to sleep might prove to be, or the exhaustion when I wake again the next day, or the achiness, the tiredness, the tightness in my muscles that will aggravate me throughout the day. I dread that I will come back home, and rest, and feel better, and then my body will hit its reset button the next morning, and the whole thing will start all over again. Like an endless cycle of rest, pain and exhaustion.

Created with Microsoft Fresh Paint
Emptiness

Taking time in moments stops me from thinking in the fashion above, but it also makes time feel disconnected. I feel like, as people, we thrive on some sort of continuity. That’s why we created the construct of “time” in the first place. When you take life one piece at a time, it is an effective coping mechanism because it gets you through the day. But for me, at some point, every moment seems to run into another, and it becomes hard to see where I have been and where I am going.

So even though this method works, I realized that is like putting a band-aid on wound that needs stitches. It might make you feel better and hide it from sight, but it probably won’t solve the problem. But for problems that can’t be solved, like the one I currently have I guess, this is still a useful strategy.

2. Reframe your mind to think of what you can do.

This one is hard for me because I associate fibromyalgia with so much loss. But I think it is important to note that there is still a lot that I can do that I don’t always think about. I don’t think about it because I expect to be able to do more, so I care less about what I still can. But perhaps I should not take all that for granted.

Perhaps it worth noting that regardless of how bad I felt, I could still take care of my husband after his surgery. I could take care of our home while working at the same time. I can still work! As a scientist, no less! I can still plan for a future, perhaps a house, or a vacation. I am still able to spend some time with friends when I like. None of it is easy, but I am still doing it. Regardless of how much patience I lose with myself, I am still coping with whatever life throws at me.

IMG_2022 (3)
I am not just a a face in the crowd – I am still capable of hopes and dreams and accomplishments!

In a weird way, this makes me feel both proud and more confident, and also more humbled. Proud and confident that I am capable on taking on the current challenge. But also more humbled: just because you could do something, doesn’t mean that you should. I feel grateful that I didn’t collapse, only flared, when the workload soared. But at the first chance, I am also cutting back so as to not provoke providence by taking it for granted.

Altogether, I have found this to be a good exercise. When I feel poorly, my list is fairly short. But I try to add every mundane thing I could and try to convince myself to feel accomplished for being able to do it. It helps me feel like I have been somewhere, and can do some things, and can still plan for some kind of future.

3. Accept that it sucks.

Sometimes that’s all you can do. Just accept that this is a bad patch, and ride it out. No point in being angry about it or punishing yourself for what you cannot do. Do what you can to mitigate the flare, but recognize that sometimes it’s like the flu — you just have to wait it out. Admit the feelings and thoughts that invade the mind, find an acceptable outlet for them, and try to redirect them in more positive directions (see #1 and #2 for instance). Show yourself some compassion.

This one, for me, is by far the hardest, though I have been actively coaching myself for a while. I feel like I need to have the answers to all my problems. If I don’t have ready answers, I feel like I need to find them. But sometimes there is no answer. All you can do is accept this is how it is. Funny thing is, when I am able to do it, it brings me so much peace of mind! And yet I struggle with the idea that I am “giving in” to the flare. But it is not: I am still looking for ways to help myself feel better; I am just done fighting the the problem itself. The focus is now on me. Not the flare or the illness itself.

Created with Microsoft Fresh Paint
Peace

I have written extensively about acceptance before, and I will put the links below. It is probably the best way I have found of dealing with the emotional aspects of my condition. As you can see, however, it is not a goal you achieve and stay at. It’s a a never-ending journey on the road to peace.

Gentle hugs,

Fibronacci

 

READ MORE ON ACCEPTANCE:
Part I: A Lesson in Perspective and Acceptance
Part II: What is “Acceptance”?
Part III: How Acceptance can lead to Happiness
Part IV (A): Seeking a State of Acceptance 
Part IV (B): Fighting the Denial of a Chronic Illness