Eventually, New People Will Think I'm a Dipshit

I read online a lot. When my pain is mostly in my hands and wrists, that's about all I can do when I want to relax-Lord knows Sky King doesn't give up the remote freely very often. (Why should he? I only want to watch stupid shows about desserts that I can't have, or people that sing. Ick.)

I also belong to a few groups dealing with fibro and chronic fatigue.  What I have been most intrigued by, as has my husband, is the complete lack of support some people get that struggle with an invisible illness. 

I have thought about it for quite some time.  I have pondered, mused and ruminated.  I think I may have came up with the answer. And knowing this scares the ever-loving crap out of me.

Many people have been struggling with their health issues for a VERY LONG TIME. They were first experiencing symptoms way before modern medicine even validated their illnesses, much less believed that any of their complaints had validity-most of the people diagnosed are women, being cared for by male doctors, which has not helped the cause, lemme tell ya.
Add to this many of these people were just normal people BEFORE they got sick. Normal jobs, normal energy levels, normal occasional bouts of dont-feel-like-its and that-mess-will-be-there-tomorrows and my favorite, I-just-don't-fucking-wanna.  You know, that stuff you all experience once in a while.

But.  BIG BUTT.  Like, creepy-fat-chick-fetish-porno-butt.  Then they get/come down with/start to feel shitty/get diagnosed with some crap: fibro, chronic fatigue, lupus, Sjorgen's, take your pick. There's more, but I don't feel like Googling them all. You know what I mean, you know how Google works, do it your damn self.....sorry.  Got carried away AND off track. So not like me.

They are told by their doc that STRESS is the thing they need to reduce to experience a bit of relief, along with pounds of pills jammed down their throats all day long.
Do you know how hard it is to make a conscious effort to avoid stress?  Well, it is about as easy as sending your child outside for several hours right after a big rain storm with the words, "Now, don't get dirty!".  Not very possible, my friends.

Why does this all scare me?

Well, you may remember that I have a teensy little problem with control.  That's why I write this damn blog, so I can control your opinion of me, even if that means your opinion gets weirder, or drops like a lead weight.  At least it was on purpose. 
Now, I have to reduce stress, which involves a lot of saying NO, not planning so much, not going in to work so much, not driving so much, not spending so much time on the computer, blah blah blah.  I guess I am supposed to sit in a quiet clean room in a comfy chair, sipping chamomile tea whilst staring outside into the beautiful woods, adoring the twittering wildlife.
NOT screaming that my son is acting like a complete jackass while he shrugs and walks away, in the middle of helping Princess understand alphabetical order, while texting my sis-in-law about dinner plans in a few days while listening to Monday Night Football in the background and Adele in the kitchen, while the smoke detector goes off because the frozen pizza that might make it into the mouths of my children drips cheese into an already filthy oven.  Check.

Oh, and I have to continue to bring my kids to school-a wonderful Montessori charter school-where it is mandatory that we (meaning I) do 70 hours of parent participation (read: show up for field trips, conferences, classroom events, etc.) all within the midst of other moms (and some dads, don't get all pissy just yet) doing the same thing. Which means I will over-commit, overschedule and run myself ragged.

Here's the big catch:  Almost everyone I currently know knew me "when".  They knew the overachiever that was there for everything, seemed totally together, was on every field trip and every sign-up, was there at work early, leaving late.  Was seen cruising in the Swagger Wagon running errands at an enviable pace, couldn't seem to sit still long enough to breathe.  They all love me and accept me, and surely notice a huge difference in the past year. 

Now though, I am meeting people in my life: the gym, yoga class, Support Group, Kids' school, new families at work, that DIDN'T know me before.  To them, I may be seen as a flaky forgetful chubby mama that seems to be chasing her tail on a regular basis. And each year, more and more people will join the ranks of the  "Never knew Type-A Aimee".  This scares the absolute shit out of me. 

There goes just a little bit more control.

Maybe I need a warning label?

Coping with friends and family

Let me start by saying that I love my family. I love my friends, I love my in-laws.  And, I love the time I get with them. In fact, each summer my husband's extended family descends upon our home for weeks of BBQs, fun, frivolity, and complaints from the neighbors.  Typically, it is a fun-filled, food-centered madness inspired period of time, with more wine bottles destroyed than one could reasonably assume could be consumed by such a limited number of adults.
This year has been no exception. However, it has been markedly different.

1. I can't drink.  Anti-depressants mixed with depressants (how can WINE be a DEPRESSANT???) equals bad bad bad.
2. I have been limited by Sky King to 3 things a week. Houseguests should count as 1 thing per guest per night. I am SOOO over limit.
3. I can't do much in the housework department
4. I have WAYYYYY less energy
5. I get sick of discussing my health, yet get irritated when people don't automatically KNOW and REALIZE I'M JUST NOT UP TO IT/CAN'T DO IT/NEED A BREAK. Yes, they should read my mind, and it IS all about me. Deal with it.
6. I have a certain FUN AIMEE reputation to uphold, and it is significantly more difficult without Mojitos.
7. I can't eat ranch dip.

OK, those last 2 are a bit of a stretch, but really, this is my first year truly dealing with all my issues, and having them be as bad as they currently are. 
However, I am surviving (so far).  Here is how:

1. Sky King-he is constantly checking in on me, and maintaining working order on everything so that we can all enjoy our time together.  Normally, he is FAB, but he has brought FAB to stellar levels of late. Special favors are overdue (TMI, I know...)  In fact, he is out right now, with the GUYS, and I am thrilled that he gets a break from me.  I wish he wasn't so worried about me, once in a while
2. Meditation-My therapist has pushed this on me over and over.  Excusing myself for a 20 minute break to my room, with noise-canceling headphones for a meditation session has truly allowed me to hit the reset button on my feelings of being overwhelmed.
3. Letting others help-this has been the hardest to adjust to: I'm notorious for doing too much.  In the past 2 weeks, I have:

• taken the trash out 0 times
• emptied the dishwasher 1 time
• cooked 2 side dishes
• shopped for groceries 1 time (with assistance!)

Now, how have I done this, you ask? I have followed some rules.  Here they are, in no particular order:

• When someone asks, "What can I do to help?" (which someone ALWAYS does), I give them something.  Then, I walk away when I am done with what I was doing. I may even delegate that task out, too!
• I have shared with just about everyone what is going on with my health.  They have all understood, even more than I could have hoped, and I got over being weird about sharing the info
• I take time for me, to reconnect, center, reset, even if only for a while, and even with a pool full of screaming kids just beyond the door.
• I am more tuned in to my needs. If I am tired, I sleep.  No one has given me a hard time for laying around, and schlepping off to bed at 11, when the house is full of guests-they have all been tremendously understanding.

Maybe I am truly fortunate, blessed with people that "knew me when" and know that I am truly sick, not being a big baby or faker.  Maybe I have just surrounded myself with great people.  I don't know, but whatever it is, I am a very lucky person.

Also, my kids and husband have been amazing.  I have not sailed through this without some hard times, but i would rather have some extra hard times and not miss out on all these memories.

Choices, and jokes

OK-from the name of my blog, I should be talking at least a little about Fibromyalgia.  I am truly sorry.  However, my excuse is that I have really enjoyed starting this blog, and have all these great posts swimming in my head.  Once again, my sincere apologies, and the warning that this blog is not all about my illness.  The point has always been, and will continue to be about my struggles with my health issues, and the wacky adventures that ensue because of my new normal.
So, an update on my health. But first, a little fibro humor for y'all.

What do you get when you take 6 depressants with 2 antidepressants in a 24 hour period?







Wait for it.......






An anxiety attack!!!!  Bahahahahahahahaha.  Not funny?  No?  But, true.

Remember my post, here?

Well. That was just the beginning.  And, because I am apparently cerebrally challenged now and again, I did not recognize the drama I inflicted upon myself. Here is the short version:

Friday: BUSY day at work, lots of stress.  Body in major pain. Had glass of wine at home, 9 pm.  Forgot my meds at 6:30. Made up for it right before bed (including my antidepressant).
Sat AM: can barely function-throw stuff in bag, do hair and makeup for Anniversary Trip, warn hubby it is narcotic pain relief time, and I'm checking out for the day.
Sat Afternoon: more narcotic pain relief. Relaxing fun also. Then, fabulous dinner out. Wine.
Sat PM: back to hotel, take meds (including antidepressant and narcotic pain relief). Head down to hotel bar. Wine.
Sun AM: feeling sore, but better.
Mon: complete meltdown, as referenced above.
Tues: workday.  Barely made it through 4 hours. Kept getting urge to run from building.
Weds: workday. Once again, hanging by a thread. Stayed only til absolute necessary tasks completed, 2.5 hours. Went to run errands. Had to stop and take big breaths, felt chest tightening.
Weds Afternoon: Called Sky King. he knew right away, told me to meet him at home, went to park to talk, cry, be hugged.
Thurs: Therapist. Normally, she is a quiet, calm, thoughtful person.  You never can seem to tell what she is thinking, how she feels. When I told her I thought I had had an anxiety attack, she had me recap the prior days, like I did for you above.  Then, she got a bit huffy, for her.  She took a deep breath, and said, "So, you are telling me that you took 6 depressants along with 2 antidepressants over the course of 24 hours, and you're confused as to why you don't feel well? Really?".

Duh. She wasn't as harsh as I depicted, but the point was the same. 

Then, we talked for quite a while about choices.  I have chosen to seek out help for my health problems. I chose to work on all aspects of my health: food, lifestyle, exercise, thoughts.  I chose to give up dairy, gluten, artificial sweeteners, MSG. I chose to go to therapy, to work on my stress, my life, my choices. I chose to be stuck with numerous needles every Monday.  I chose to start a weight loss journey.
And I chose to screw it all up with wine and meds.

Once again, she is holding me accountable for my life.  I had the choice.  I know that my meds don't mix well with alcohol. I told myself that the wine helps me relax. I told myself that I could not go through the day without pain pills, and I took them.
But, I am nothing, if not a "learn from my own mistakes" kinda gal.

So-I am choosing to be more mindful of the choices I make, and how they might affect me. I can't choose whether work is stressful sometimes. But, I can choose how I manage that stress. I can research better tools, and use those tools. I can approach my health with a holistic approach. Western medicine can only take me so far. I only get this body once-I need to take better care of it.

While I can't control the hand I have been dealt, I CAN play the cards I have been dealt, rather than avoid the game altogether.

Know any good Fibro jokes?

Anxiety

Methinks I am entering the world of anxiety.  Ok, I have already been diagnosed with issues with anxiety, but I think I believe them now. Now, in the interest of full disclosure, I am putting myself out there on this one.  Seriously.
Yesterday was a bit rough.  I didn't want to be at work, but couldn't really put my finger on the problem.  Today, I REALLY didn't want to be there. As in, it took everything in me to not run out to my car, and tear off for home.  See? Anxiety.
So, I got the bare minimum done, then took off to run errands.  And right there in the middle of a store, I needed my husband RIGHT THEN.  I called, he dropped everything and met me at the house, and spent some time listening to me complain, cry and whine.  Then, he told me that there was pretty much nothing that would drive him from me.  Which is all I needed to hear.  I knew it, in my brain, but my heart was not listening today.

At least now I have something to talk to my therapist about tomorrow.