About me Daily Life Memories Sleep Deprived Tough Times Worries: chronic fatigue deepest darkest fears exhaustion fatigue fibromyalgia illness more pain Motherhood not fair pain recovery relapsing remission Sleep is for the Weak Tough Times
by Josie
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Fear
I am blogging this morning in a desperate attempt to stay awake.
Kai is busy doing things that Kai bear’s do: hiding things in various places to be retrieved later, pushing things round in his beloved new fire engine. He has a small plastic duck in his mouth and my cardigan wrapped around his neck. So normal day for him.
I, however, am not feeling quite so breezy. I keep falling asleep, my limbs feel like lead, I am dizzy and wobbly on my feet. And I am scared, very, very scared.
I don’t think this is low iron, or lack of sleep, or over-exertion. I think this is my FUCKING Fibromyalgia (and yes people with sensitive ears I WILL swear), and the thought of that taking a hold again makes my stomach lurch and my skin go cold in a way I can’t possibly make you understand. The doctor won’t see me till Friday but I know that’s what she’ll say. The pain levels are ok, but this overwhelming fatigue is how it starts. I have been here many, many times. Hopefully this will be a bad couple of weeks, maybe a month and then it will lift. But last time it was years. I thought I had beaten it, I really had.
I cannot go back to being ill again. I can’t. I am grabbing you by the virtual lapels right now and shaking you because you have to listen here. I cannot be that person again.
For six years I was a pale, floppy can’t-do shadow, managing to walk to the end of the road and back on a good day. I won’t tell you about the bad days. My life revolved around wheelchairs, and overwhelming pain that makes labour look like a walk in the park, pacing, and positive thinking and TAKING IT FUCKING EASY.
I don’t want to take it easy. I want to be alive and not a ghost person. I want to DO and get to be the person that I AM – full of energy and enthusiasm, and not some miserable, pathetic not-Josie.
And the real bitch is that everything was going so well. I was feeling happy and settled, I was FINALLY getting going with life and doing things that felt right and that were taking off. I wasn’t depressed or anxious or all the other things that no doubt my doctor and everyone else will assume is respsonsible for the relapse. I was doing great, I really, really was.
It.is.not.fair.
I don’t care if I sound petulant and whiney. I know it could be a lot worse. This illness won’t kill me but my god it kills my life. It kills my plans, my ambition, my potential. And it has done this over and over again my whole life.
I will not let it do it to me again.
I will not put my life on hold again.
You hear me?
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