Friday, September 2, 2011

Cry, baby.

I've never been a "crier". I HATE crying, and the most humiliating thing I can think of (other than being naked in public) is crying in public.

I didn't grow up in a very demonstrative household (unless being cracked upside the head is demonstrative - lol), and when I met hubby I initially had a really hard time with the amount of physical contact that both he and his children were comfortable with. It took me some time to get used to holding hands in public, or accepting a peck in public or what have you.

Anyway. Work has been extremely challenging, and I got really really nasty and hateful email from my mother last week. I had a major (and I mean MAJOR) fibro flare brought on by the stress there and the stress of being away from home. I don't travel well these days, and being in the car, sleeping in a new place with new smells and new sounds and a new bed was really hard on me, and sleep was elusive. I had a migraine the day before we left, and it carried through Saturday, and I was wiped the entire beach trip.

This made me really ANGRY and one of the ways I express major anger is to, yep, cry. Hubby was a champion and listened to me rant and rave and hate my fibro and worry I'll never make it to Europe (Paris is the one dream I've had my whole life) if I can't even take a 3 hour car ride to the next state etc. So I sprung a major leak.

I came back to work Tuesday, worked half a day, and then couldn't get up Wednesday. Like I slept for 15 hours straight, and then hubby woke me up cause he was worried. I could hardly walk, the muscles in the back of my legs would not work.

I came to work yesterday (Thursday) and barely made it through. I have an office roommate now (maybe only for another month or two - supposed to get more office space soon) and she's a nice person, but being a sales person she is loud. As are the scents of her lotion, her phone, her laugh, her friends that visit all day long etc. I close the door, she opens it. I can't THINK at all when I'm in a deep fibro fog and she's laughing on the phone or something 4 feet from me. I totally, completely, sensory overloaded melted down yesterday.

I bailed out of the office before I started crying, and found one of my friends here (receptionist) and asked her where my other friend (and HR person - there are 4 of them) was - she was out. And my friend asked me if I was ok, and then it just started.

I blubbered and ranted and raved and cried and she hugged me and she cried a little too and then she put me back together again.

Friends that you can do this with are RARE, and I am so blessed to have a few of these kinds of friends. Being able to talk it out with her, and acknowledge it with her understanding, was incredibly healing. I am sick to death of people that don't "get" fibro - the "oh it's all in your head" or "it's all the pills you take" (mom's latest barb involved these) and that "oh, well I'm tired too". There is tired and then there is FIBRO tired, the I can't fucking move or I will cry type of sore. Think of the worst flu you ever had. Remove the puking, and BOOM you have an idea of what it feels like to be in a bad fibro flare. Although I have been known to puke from intense pain, so maybe you can keep that in. I digress.

Anyway, I was a super crab yesterday when I got home, I was mad at work, I was mad at myself for crying and feeling like giving up. Hubby loved me through it and I slept really really well last night.

And today I feel great.

Obviously, that release was what I needed - I needed to throw a mini "its not fair" tantrum and get some of it out. Because yeah, it's NOT fair. I spent the first three decades of my life being a Type A Achiever, simultaneouly going to school and working full time, taking care of my dad, figuring out how to divorce an abuser, being self sufficient. It all hit at once. No one helped put me through school. I did it. I pay these loans. No one paid my rent. I did it, since I was 17 and my mom kicked me out.

And then comes fibro... who made me slow down. Forced me to stop and rest, or I will pay for days and days. I am learning not to take things so seriously. Everything in my house doesn't need to be perfect. I don't lust for $3000 handbags anymore. I have learned the simple pleasure of tuning out to the TV when I am to fogged up to read or knit. Everything has changed.

And today? Today I can handle stupid fibro. I'm strong enough. Thanks to the help of my friends.


  1. I love you, bff... If I had been there, I would have had *words* with your office mate, plus given you a hug. Is there ANYthing you can do about it now?