, , , ,

Monday morning I had a mini-meltdown. A tears in my eyes, anger causing me to tremble and rant, feeling bad about my body and my life kind of meltdown. I call it mini because after a few minutes it was over. I knew that being upset for much longer would be bad for my body and I think I just needed a few minutes to cry out to the universe. I wasn’t better afterwards, but I felt like I had let go of some of my frustration and anger.

It started with piles of dog and yard waste. I had been slowly raking up it up–ten or fifteen minutes spread out over a few weeks, making small piles that I would then later pick up. It’s the way I can get the yard work done, even though it means my backyard looks dumpy for weeks at a time. I has been putting off the last step for a few days when I decided I just couldn’t put it off anymore–the piles of waste were making me feel like my life is going to waste because I just can’t get anything done that needs to get done. I was feeling so resentful of my condition. So I decided to get up the next morning and pick up those damn waste piles no matter what–just to prove that I have control over my life.

But of course I didn’t sleep well the night before and of course I woke up in pain. Of course I needed to sleep an extra hour in order to feel functional, but I didn’t get that extra hour. I got up, showered and dressed and got myself out there. I pushed myself even though I knew I wasn’t feeling good. And I ended up having the mini-meltdown because with every move of the rake my body was crying out. My husband hadn’t left for work yet so he came out to see what was wrong and he just listened while I had my mini-meltdown.

I ended up finishing half of the work I wanted to finish and then had a long nap later that afternoon. I don’t know why, but I’ve just been having more pain and fatigue this month, and I’ve just been feeling so resentful of having fibromyalgia. I’ve sat down to write new entries for this blog, but I end up feeling I have nothing to write about except my bad mood, my stress, my resentment, my pains, my fatigue and my mini-meltdowns. Sometimes I feel like an old woman with my pain and sometimes I feel like a toddler with my frustration so easily brought to the surface. But one thing I haven’t been feeling is content with and in control of my condition. For a long time, I was feeling like my symptoms were manageable. But something about this month has made me feel just awful. So I end up not writing anything because I don’t think it makes for good blog entries.

But sometimes I just have to let out a cry:

This fibromyalgia is difficult and some days I’m just not able to handle it.