Rules of Relapse

So here’s the deal.

You remember how I was pushing too hard? How everything was piling up and up and you all told me something was going to have to give?

You remember how tired I’ve been?

Yeah. About that…

The Fibromyalgia is back. With great big teeth. The kind that seem to have dug in and aren’t letting go.

Here are the rules.

1. After this post I am not going to talk about it any more. I am hoping this will only last another week or so, but potentially this could be part of my life for quite some time. I refuse to let it dominate my blog, what I talk about, or how you see me.

2. After this post YOU are not allowed to talk about it any more. For all the above reasons. Because, as much as I appreciate your support (and I really, really do) I do not want the only thing I talk about with you, whoever you are, to be how much pain I happen to be in today or whether I’ve managed to get off the sofa. It is boring. It is beyond boring, it is duller than a dull thing on a very dull day. In the shade. DULL.

3. There is going to have to be a lot of humour. Expect it in large manic doses. And dish it out too please. There is to be absolutely no taking me seriously whatsoever. If I moan, take the piss out of me. Immediately.

4. If you live close by you are very welcome to come and visit me. Even if I give the impression that I just want to be left alone, even if I DO want to be left alone, I cannot spend day after day stuck in with no company, if only for Kai’s sake, so come and see me. And bring cake.

5. If I don’t text, if I don’t blog, if I don’t tweet, if I don’t comment on your blogs, it does not mean I have gone anywhere or that I am not thinking about you. Because I am, always. But my ability to concentrate is being seriously curtailed by the hoards of fire ants currently feasting on my deep muscle tissue. And because pain and not being able to move comes with an almighty plummet in both my self confidence and ability to be even vaguely entertaining. Honestly, you might be better off without me for a bit.

6. My new priorities in life are now breathing, knitting, catching up on two years worth of TV series, and working out how the hell I am supposed to be a good mother when I can’t move. Appropriate messages and tweets will therefore include “how’s the knitting going?”, “have your remembered to breathe in the last five minutes?” and “get off your ass you lazy cow and go eat something”.

7. You are not allowed to tell me about special diets, or magical crystals, or God, or anything else. Even if you’re only trying to help, which I know you are and I love you for it. I have had this illness for pretty much my whole life and believe me have tried everything going. The only way this goes away is with patience, time and more patience. Oh and Yoga. And heat. And it WILL go. There’s just not a lot I can do in the meantime except ride it out.

8. You are not allowed to say any nice things about me whatsoever. Because I will cry and then I will come and pound you.

9. You must all keep sending me lots of interesting, exciting things to do and new things to work on and think about. You must not be afraid to share your problems because you will be ‘bothering me’. Because I need to keep busy. There will be no ‘we should just let Josie rest’ crap. If I can’t handle something at that particular time I promise I will be honest and tell you.

10. The most important rule of all. This is not allowed to last long. Ok? You hear me body?