Tyra Creates

Deserve

I've been struggling lately with some things that I thought I had accepted and put to rest. For the past several weeks I have been feeling conflicted and upset about my fibromyalgia, my arthrisit, my pain and my medication.

I'm 39 and I hope I have a lot of years left to live. On the days the pain is bad, I think about that. How I have potentially many years left of living just as I am now and honestly, there's a part of me that isn't sure how I feel about it. Of course I want to live to be an old woman. I want to know my grandchildren and my great-grandchildren. Some days when the pain is in my face, not giving me a moments peace, I don't know how I will manage it.

I keep thinking there has to be more than this, a better way if you will. I've been beating myself up trying to come up with things I can change, try or stop doing. Basically, I'm trying to come up with a different way to deal with my illnesses and their changes, different than how I'm dealing with them now.

My biggest area of conflict is medication. I take a prescribed narcotic 3-4 times a day in order to go about my day. I've never hidden what I take from my family and friends, thinking that full disclosure and honesty was the best way to go about things. Now, 2 years later I wonder if I should've just kept my medications between my doctor and me.

When most people hear the word narcotic, they think of drug addiction. Prescription drug addiction is an over growing problem, I won't deny that. However, there are people who need narcotics for pain relief so they can have some semblance of a life. Those of use with chronic pain are kind of lost in the cracks, overshadowed by the pain and chaos caused by drug addiction.

Addiction and dependence are two totally different things. Am I addicted to my pain medication? Absolutely not. Is my body depedent on my pain medication? Yes, I've taken it daily for over 2 years. Just as I've taken an antidepressant, my body is dependent on it as well.

I'm not here to explain the difference between the two. I know my truth, I just wish certain people in my life would rest easy in that. I'm not against people being concerned for me, I'm even ok when someone tells me they worry about what the medications I take are doing to my body. It's a valid concern, one I have myself on a daily basis. But I have to weigh the pros vs the cons and go with what I feel is the best choice for me.

I get hung up in where concern ends for me and worry for the other person comes into play. By that I mean, how much of it is concern with my health and well being or concern that "others" may find out I take prescription pain medication? The medication you hear about on the news and documentary shows. How much of it is my husband worrying that other people may think his wife is a drug addict?

I don't want anyone in my family to be ashamed of me or shamed by me. That people pleasing part of me kicks in and immediately decides that they are right and maybe I need to find another way. Then the other more sensible side of me very quietly, starts to list all that I have tried. It wasn't that I got diagnosed with fibro and went directly to strong pain medication.

I need to start following the advice I would give to any of my friends, advice that they have given me. I deserve to have the best life possible, not one full of physical pain so overwhelming that I can't get out of bed. This is the life I've been given and I need to work within it. I can only continue to educate my family so they won't worry as much. I can't stop what I need to make them feel better. Somewhere along the line, they will come around and if they don't, that's their issue not mine.

It's Better To Be Thankful

Today I was struck by the green monster. Jealousy. Envy. I know that nothing good comes out of jealousy. Jealousy breeds discontent, anger and bitterness. Those emotions are exhausting and I'm tired enough.

Since I hate when people are evasive with me, I'm going to suck it up and be honest about what me jealous.

I read someone's status on Facebook. Yes, I'm jealous over what someone posted on Facebook. I promise I'm not shallow.

That person was talking about spending the day out with friends, visiting a yarn store and having a leisurely lunch. I was immediately struck dumb with jealousy. I started thinking all kinds of snarky things like "I wish I had the time to spend all day out with friends, doing what I want, spending money and not having to rush!"

If I get honest though, that's not why I was jealous. I was jealous because her status didn't end with a statement of how exhausted or in pain she was from her day out with friends.

I'm jealous of her health.

I can't sit in this long and the only way I know how to change how I feel is to be thankful. Thankful for where I am in my life right now. I can't live in the if onlys, the why me, the unfairness.

I need to be thankful that if I want to I can go shopping with friends because I'm alive. Yes, I will be exhausted and most likely in a lot of pain for several days. But I can do it. I'm thankful that my husband has work which requires me having to work because that means we have a paycheck. I'm thankful to have three healthy, busy children who need me. I'm thankful for my sweet bulldog who needs me even more.

No one ever promised me life would be easy and I've learned that life isn't always fair. I've also learned a lot of life is what you make of it. You can choose to stay in the self pity, anger, jealousy or not.

Believe I'm not the type who spouts rainbows, kittens and unicorns. I'm a realist, lots of time a pessimist and sometimes a down right grump. And that's ok. I just don't stay there long. Life is just plain better when you can be thankful.

 

False Advertising? Not Really.

Nothing irritates me more than Lyrica and Cymbalta commercials.

Take Lyrica and you'll be out gardening and making jewelry. You'll have your old life back. When the commerical comes on, I have this overwhelming urge to throw the remote at the television.

I guess I get irritated because I didn't have a good experience taking Lyrica. Actually, I regret to this day that I ever took it. There are many who benefit from taking it but I don't know very many. Most people that I've talked to feel the same as I do.

Having an invisible illness is hard enough without the misconception that just taking a certain medication will make everything all better. Even those who take the Lyrica and do well, don't have their lives back.

As for Cymbalta, I have been taking it for quite some time now. For my fibromyalgia. Not depression. I tried taking it on it's own for depression and fibro but unfortunately, it was just not effective enough to control my depression. I will say it does help with my fibro pain.

It comes with it's own set of side effects. Weight gain and fatigue are the ones I have experienced. I take it at night because it makes me too drowsy to take during the day.

Also, if you've taken it for awhile, stopping it isn't so easy. It will be a longer process of titrating down and it's not fun. I also urge anyone with clinical depression to talk with your doctor about taking another antidepressant along with the Cymbalta. My pharmacist told me that the literature even states that it should be used in conjunction with another antidepressant.

I understand that drug companies have to make their products sound appealing and wonderful. It's all about making money. I just want to put out the reality behind the medications. The thing with invisible illnesses is that they are in fact, invisible. On the outside we look fine but truth be told, our bodies have betrayed us. We fight pain, so much pain that no pill can fix.

If it was only that easy.

Look Back But Don't Stare

For some reason (hormones)this week I've spent time thinking of life before my fibromyalgia diagnosis. You know the saying hindsight is always 20/20, if only I had known before fibro what I know now.

I took my health for granted. I struggled some before I was diagnosed with hypothyroidism and for a couple of years after. Once the correct dosage of thyroid medication was found, I started to feel better.

That's the key, I eventually felt better. As long as I took my medication and watched my levels, I was fine other than having very dry skin and cold feet.

I wasn't thin but I was strong. I walked 3 miles a day, took early morning exercise classes and even worked up to running/walking on the treadmill. I had good balance, felt healthy and my strength was amazing.

Then I got injured during exercise class. I had something pop in my lower back which caused me to limp for weeks. I quit going to exercise class because I could barely walk on the treadmill let alone run. Around the same time my father became ill and my world became all about getting to know him. Finally. And then it became all about letting him go.

I had lost my mom to cancer 4 years before I lost my father. I found myself at the age of 34 with no parents and depression took over my life. I self-medicated for a few months, I was tired ALL the time but chalked it up to being depressed and hungover. The body aches I chalked up to my sedentary life. I had an excuse of some sort or another for my symptoms.

After several months of feeling like hell, I hit a wall. I could barely get out of bed, I avoided having conversations because at times I wouldn't be able to recall a word or I would forget what I was talking about mid-sentence. I had to make lists of lists, write every appointment on several different calendars in order to remember where I had to be and when and I would still forget. I was so damn tired but unable to sleep. There wasn't a part of my body that didn't hurt. Walking up or down stairs I would have to hold onto the railing and go slowly because I felt like I would fall.

I finally went to the doctor, I couldn't ignore how I was feeling anymore. I was afraid that I was losing my mind, that I would be told that it was all in my head. Thankfully I have a great doctor who took the time to listen as I listed my symptoms and yes, I did write them down because I knew I would forget some. She believed me and said that she was positive that I had fibromyalgia.

Here I am now, 2 1/2 years after diagnosis. I take narcotics daily just to function. I am tired everyday all day. I have insomnia more nights than I don't. I'm lucky to sleep a solid 4 hours. It amazes me how I can be so damn tired but not sleep. I have kids and I work part-time so I push myself. A LOT. Eventually I push to the point of utter exhaustion and for a day or two I can do little to nothing.

I do wish I had enjoyed my health more, done more, listened to my body more. Shoulda woulda coulda. I'm still grieving my "old" life, sometimes more than others. I can't say having fibromyalgia has been all bad. I've made some great friends I've never even met in person but get me more than most who see me daily. I've learned the value of slowing down even when I don't. I've learned to prioritize and say no.

I fight guilt more than I admit. That is something I need to work on. I need to follow what I tell my friends. I can only do what I can do. Don't be so hard on myself. Find joy in the little things. Stay connected to those who understand. Sleep when I can. Read a book even if it takes forever. Watch mindless tv. Keep my phone charged. Wear good shoes. Have comfy pajamas.

Don't live in the past.

How I Feel

I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia almost 2 years ago, I've had for years but when undiagnosed because I refused to acknowledge how I was feeling. I had too much going on in my life-grieving the deather of my mother, raising my kids, taking care of my ill father. I was raised to just suck it up and to never complain.

I spent years trying to be supermom and the perfect wife. Pushing, pushing, pushing myself regardless of how I was feeling. I refused to take a moment for myself and used to look down on those who did.

I burnt the candle at both ends for years. I took care of my dying mother which was the most traumatic thing I've ever had to do. I was broken after her death with a pain inside me that I never knew could exist. I didn't want to be here without her, I didn't know how to.

I'd like to say that I'm ok now but I'm not. Losing my parents changed me, in some ways good in others not so much. Probably the worst thing is my fear of losing someone else. I have pulled back from those I love because I just can't stand it. Even my children who I love more than anyone or anything else. I regret it, I don't want to but yet I'm terrified to get too close.

After my diagnosis I was relieved because I thought I was going crazy with all my symptoms. I had heard of fibromyalgia but only in the negative sense, that it was fake, just something the doctor throws out when nothing else makes sense. 

I carried that belief even after diagnosis, telling myself it's not that big of a deal, suck it up, you're not dying. For God's sakes, you could have cancer! I didn't look sick, not really. I looked a little tired but who doesn't these days. And yeah, I limp around some, especially in the mornings.

I'm here to say today, as much for myself as for anyone else out there, fibromyalgia is real. My pain is real. So real that there are days where I wonder if I can continue to live this way. So real that I can't even talk because the energy it takes to form words is painful.

I could easily fall into all the negative things that come with a chronic illness because there are plenty. I do it more than I should. I'm trying now to change up my thinking, look at the positive things that have come out of being ill.

I have learned to not sweat the small stuff. I used to get my panties in a wad over every little thing. Now I just let it go, it's not worth the stress which can result in a flare. I love that I'm not like that anymore. I've become a much more understanding, compassionate person. I'm learning to listen to my body more and more. I love that too because I've never been one to check in with how I'm feeling. I'm learning to appreciate little things like having the energy to go shopping with my girls, talk to new people at the field hockey games, the love from my dog.

I no longer burn the candle at both ends and I am so damn thankful. Sure there are times when I wish I could just clean the house in a couple of hours rather than taking a whole day, sometimes two. I don't miss for a second being so stressed that I act like a crazy woman, flipping out over dumb things. I don't miss feeling like I have to keep up-work more for that fancy vehicle, to go out to eat 2-3 times a week, designer shoes and purses.

I've learned to be simple, to be satisfied and it's so much easier. No, I no longer get manicures every 2 weeks or pedicures ever 6 weeks. I don't get my hair cut every 6 weeks. I drive a van that I've had for 6 years that has almost 150,000 miles. We rarely eat out anymore. It was an adjustment for all of us but we've come to a place of acceptance. Our small business is struggling a bit (like many others) and because I physically can't work 2 jobs, we've learned what matters most. It's not things.

If you are my friend on Twitter, you know I have my down days. Some days the pain wins but yet I hold on. I'm strong, I'm able and I will live my life.

Dusting Off the Cobwebs

Wow, this place is dusty and very neglected, kind of like my home. Kind of like a lot of things in my life. The last few months I have just been getting by, which isn't enough for me. I don't want to just get by, I want to really live, enjoy, be open to everything.

Living with a chronic illness is overwhelming. There are days where I can barely manage my fibromyalgia let alone anything else. I get swallowed whole by the pain, the medication schedules, the fatigue, the lack of sleep even though I'm beyond exhausted.

What I've done is let my illness take over. The only thing I've managed to hold onto is my crochet. I no longer read because my brain doesn't comprehend or hold onto things like it once did. So I just stopped rather than trying to work with it. I stopped writing because sometimes I just can't find the words or I can't seem to put on paper what is on my mind.

Having just come out of a particularly bad flare, I realized all the things I have given up to my illness. I don't want to do that anymore. I'm ready to dust off the cobwebs, I want to blog again. I want to get lost in a good book again. I want to take my camera and take pictures of whatever strikes me. I want to enjoy my children.

I want to live.

Journey Through Depression

Aren't these flowers pretty? I found this hanging plant at Sam's Club, I loved the colors so I splurged and spent the $20. 

For a long time I haven't had flowers decorating my home. I haven't planted flowers for a few years. My depression was so deep, I didn't care about anything. I didn't find beauty in anything.

I just didn't care.

I'm trying to find my way out of depression. I am on medication but it's almost like a recovery of sorts. I haven't tried to do anything like plant flowers, spend time outside in the sunshine listening to the birds, enjoy a gentle breeze on my skin that it's like I'm almost having to teach myself how to do those things again.

I spend quite a bit of time feeling fearful, unsure of myself and because of that I isolate. While I think being able to enjoy being alone is healthy, I can take it too far. I take it to the point where being around other people is almost painful. And the thing is, I like people. When I finally get out around people which is usually at one of the children's sporting events, I do feel better.

I know this is a journey, a process. Some days I get discouraged, I feel it's just too hard. But I don't want to be this way forever so I will continue to try my best, putting one foot in front of the other, trusting God to guide me even when I'm not asking for His guidance.

I have so much to be thankful for and I will such guilt, that I'm being ungrateful. I am thankful. I know that even with the hard times I have faced, I have so much.

I do have regrets. I know that I haven't been there for my children like I should have, could have. I know that I have lost so much time that I can't get back. Time I could've spent laughing, living, loving.

I can't dwell on the regrets or the guilt. I don't know why I have gone down the path I have, I hope one day I can use it all for good. 

I sometimes wish that I was "normal". I will watch other people, those that seem happy and I wish I was them. I can remember being a little girl, riding in the car at night and I loved looking into the windows of people's homes, especially those with open or no curtains. I would wonder what their lives were like and I was always certain that they had much better lives than I did.

Today I want to stop looking into the windows of others, wishing and longing for what they have. I want to be happy with what I have, content. I want to enjoy life, my life.