<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2300225881304285019</id><updated>2011-07-28T19:54:34.706-07:00</updated><category term='rock bottom'/><category term='stress'/><category term='fibromyalgia'/><category term='weight watchers'/><category term='assertive'/><category term='change'/><category term='hopeless'/><category term='chronic pain'/><category term='normal'/><category term='attitude'/><category term='journey'/><category term='depressed'/><category term='fms'/><category term='fibro'/><category term='hope'/><category term='spoonie'/><category term='life'/><title type='text'>Just a Girl with Fibro</title><subtitle type='html'>I'm just a girl. I've had a few problems. I've had a few illnesses. I've had a few moments of stress... Okay, maybe more than a few.... 
But here I am, a girl recently diagnosed with Fibromyalgia. These are my trials and tribulations to strive for a reduced-stress and pain-free life.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justagirlwithfibro.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2300225881304285019/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justagirlwithfibro.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>FMSGirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13166114342945561976</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hPHrTqNBD-M/Sot2Wi_-bHI/AAAAAAAAALA/OO4GvNE7ch8/S220/angelsparkle.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>11</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2300225881304285019.post-3198555883022418869</id><published>2010-04-09T16:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-09T16:48:26.949-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='assertive'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='spoonie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fibro'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weight watchers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fibromyalgia'/><title type='text'>Be Assertive</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Be Assertive.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;That is my new mantra.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;As I was afraid of, when I started opening up more to others about how I was feeling, my pain, and my frustrations, all I did was drive people away, and make them stressed out too… and it didn’t help me feel better at all. So I went back to the drawing board, and started thinking about things. I remember years ago, when I had lost a lot of weight, and I was down at my ideal weight, I felt really good. I thought I felt better because I was thin, but I think in actuality, I felt better because I had become assertive. That was one of the many things they taught me how to do in Weight Watchers. Weight Watchers is actually very interesting, as they use a lot of mental techniques that I really didn’t understand at the time, but that now make a lot of sense to me. For example, they talk about Mental Rehearsing, where you practice something in your mind before you actually go and do it. It really makes it a lot easier when you have prepared yourself. As far as being assertive, I had learned the techniques through things like asking for things to be prepared in a special way at a restaurant, or asking people not to make me feel like I had to eat a piece of their birthday cake.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;That assertiveness is totally missing from me now, as is my weight loss, unfortunately. But it seems that those things go hand in hand.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I don’t want to let people mentally beat me up anymore. I’m tired enough from fighting pain and exhaustion all of the time, I really don’t need to let others hit me while I’m down. I’m not sure what started the snowball down the tunnel of poor self-esteem, but I’m tired of going down, being pushed down, whatever. I don’t want to analyze or be analyzed anymore. I just want to have a good life. I just want to do the best I can do with Fibro. I think the key to that is to be assertive. I really &lt;s&gt;hope&lt;/s&gt; (arg, hope is not a strategy) want this to work for me. I’m tired of the way I am, and circling round and round solutions I don’t/can’t/won’t follow through with. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2300225881304285019-3198555883022418869?l=justagirlwithfibro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justagirlwithfibro.blogspot.com/feeds/3198555883022418869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justagirlwithfibro.blogspot.com/2010/04/be-assertive.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2300225881304285019/posts/default/3198555883022418869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2300225881304285019/posts/default/3198555883022418869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justagirlwithfibro.blogspot.com/2010/04/be-assertive.html' title='Be Assertive'/><author><name>FMSGirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13166114342945561976</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hPHrTqNBD-M/Sot2Wi_-bHI/AAAAAAAAALA/OO4GvNE7ch8/S220/angelsparkle.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2300225881304285019.post-4665814413515644551</id><published>2010-03-19T11:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-19T11:34:44.074-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='spoonie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fibro'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='depressed'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fibromyalgia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fms'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hopeless'/><title type='text'>Hopeless</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="608160717-19032010"&gt;Things are not going well. I'm full of  anger, frustration and stress. I'm depressed. I'm irritated. Everything is  pissing me off. I just want to say 'fuck it' to everything. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="608160717-19032010"&gt;You have this illness that amplifies pain.  Then you need to pay more attention to the signs and signals your body sends, so  that you know how to not overdo it. But because you are trying to listen to your  body more, and be more in tune with yourself, the pain amplifies louder and  louder. It's this horrible cycle that just gets worse and worse. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="608160717-19032010"&gt;I can't tell if any of the medicines are  doing anything. I just keep having more pain. But is it me being tuned into the  pain more? Or is it really more pain? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="608160717-19032010"&gt;I'm so exhausted. My job is extremely  stressful right now. I can't relax. My legs hurt so badly. I'm so uncomfortable.  I can't stand to lay in bed, and the ambien cr isn't putting me to sleep  anymore.... probably because I hurt so much and my mind is going 900 miles an  hour. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="608160717-19032010"&gt;I'm so mad. I really just want everything to  slow down to a crawl. I want to be able to manage things. I'm not able to do  that right now, and things just get worse and worse. I hate living this way. I  get nothing pleasurable out of life right now. Want to play video games? No, it  hurts too much to sit in the chair at the computer. Want to walk my dog around  the block? No, you can go about a third of the way, but then you get too tired,  stiff and in pain to go any farther. Want to make love to your husband? No, that  is incredibly painful. And forget doing anything else, like going shopping or  taking a walk by the beach.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="608160717-19032010"&gt;For fucks sake. Yesterday, I saw a guy on  his hands and knees scrubbing the tiles on the base of a post, and I was  jealous. Jealous of that??!?! Well, it's amazing the things that piss you off,  when you literally cannot do them. I couldn't get down on my hands and knees,  and if I did, I'd never be able to get up again. And forget trying to scrub  something... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="608160717-19032010"&gt;How am I supposed to live like this? How can  I know my limits, but not focus so much on how my body feels to amplify the pain  more? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="608160717-19032010"&gt;How can I be happy taking a million pills a  day? Pills that I don't think help? I am so dissatisfied. And I have become this whiny little bitch about it. If keep it in, it builds and builds and gets  worse. If I let it out, I still feel horrible, but now everyone around me does  too. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="608160717-19032010"&gt;Someday I wanted to have a baby, but how can  I ever get off of all these pills? And if I do, how can be well enough to carry  the baby? How much will that hurt, or will it be a breeze, considering what I  already go through daily? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="608160717-19032010"&gt;I don't know if this post even makes any  sense, but I just wanted to get it out. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="608160717-19032010"&gt;I want to relax. I want to enjoy, have fun,  and live life. I don't feel like I get to do those things, and I don't know how  to make it happen. It's just spiraling out of control. Every time I think I'm at  bottom, the floor falls out from underneath me. I'm tired of being told that  I'll probably always feel this way, and to learn to live with it. I'm tired of  having this "invisible disease" that makes it seem like it's all in my head. I  mean, after all, I shouldn't be feeling pain. Nothing is wrong. So I guess it is  all in my crazy fucked up head. At this point, I kinda just want to go into a  catatonic state and sit in a mental hospital for the rest of my life. I don't  want to die, but I am not living. This isn't living in an acceptable way.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="608160717-19032010"&gt;Then in almost a sub-conscious rebellion, I  sabatoge myself. I do things, or don't do things and I don't know why, other  than it's the only few things I really have any control over. These things make  no sense to me, like biting my nails or eating something unhealthy, or not  eating something that is healthy. It's like I can't help it. I have to do those  things because nothing else in my life seems up to me to decide. The thing is,  in the past when I have tried to be strong, and make major life changes, they  still didn't make me happy. Am I even capable of being happy? How do you "learn"  to be happy and enjoy things? How do you let go of the seriousness? How do you  get a happy medium? Something tells me I should stop analyzing and asking all of  these questions, as a first step. Everyone else analyzes me though. I kind of  just want to tell everyone to fuck off. I kind of want to just stop caring. I  don't know if I'm capable of that. I want to get organized, but I'm so far  behind... it's like everything is just so far out of reach, that it all seems  impossible. I just feel like a complete failure. A failure down to the core  processes of my body, a body tells me I'm in pain when I'm not. No wonder I'm  depressed. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="608160717-19032010"&gt;I have no valid plan. I don't know what to  do. I don't want to be dependent on others, and I haven't been, so it's hard for  me to convey that to others.... and then it's hard for those others to take me  seriously when I'm not so convincing about what I can and can't do. I tried to  push through. Tried pretending it didn't hurt. That doesn't work. It does hurt.  A lot. I honestly don't know what I'm going to do now. I really don't want to  keep plugging along the way things are now. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="608160717-19032010"&gt;If I ask myself the question, what would  make me happy? I don't know the answer. I haven't known for years. But fibro has  make my quality of life go way down the tubes. I'm tired of testing and trying  and not feeling better. I'm really tired of trying. Part of me just wants to  wean off all the medicines I'm on and see what that does. Part of me just wants  to force myself to do things no matter how painful they are. You know, those  guided meditation things tell you to focus on your pain as a white ball of  healing light... but my pain doesn't heal. My pain isn't for any real reason. My  nerves are broken. My brain is broken. I just get all of the wrong signals that  make me feel bad. I lost my faith many, many years ago. And now I've lost hope  too. I feel like I'm being punished and there's nothing I can do to right  whatever it is that I did wrong. I have to live like this for the rest of my  life, and that makes me very, very sad. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2300225881304285019-4665814413515644551?l=justagirlwithfibro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justagirlwithfibro.blogspot.com/feeds/4665814413515644551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justagirlwithfibro.blogspot.com/2010/03/hopeless.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2300225881304285019/posts/default/4665814413515644551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2300225881304285019/posts/default/4665814413515644551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justagirlwithfibro.blogspot.com/2010/03/hopeless.html' title='Hopeless'/><author><name>FMSGirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13166114342945561976</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hPHrTqNBD-M/Sot2Wi_-bHI/AAAAAAAAALA/OO4GvNE7ch8/S220/angelsparkle.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2300225881304285019.post-1637696327151035096</id><published>2010-02-18T21:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-18T22:11:42.973-08:00</updated><title type='text'>2/18/2010</title><content type='html'>Been wanting to try to do some blogging to track how I'm feeling, so decided to start doing it today. I want to keep a record of how I feel, what's going on, and the things I've been able to do each day. I want to have a better understanding of what I can handle in a day, and what's too much. I also want to have a record, so I can see how things are trending, and keep track of things that work, or don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm really pushing myself right now, so this will be short and sweet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vital Stats for today:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pain: 7.5&lt;br /&gt;Exhaustion: 6&lt;br /&gt;Last Night's Sleep: 8, with Ambien CR and 1/2 Zanaflex&lt;br /&gt;Frustration: 8&lt;br /&gt;Anger: 7&lt;br /&gt;Depression: 5&lt;br /&gt;Fibro Fog: 5&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things I did today:&lt;br /&gt;Slept in a little, went to the Rheumetologist. He took me off Tramadol, increased Vicodin, increased Lexapro. We'll keep trying to change things a little at a time, since things don't seem to be getting better.&lt;br /&gt;Went to work.&lt;br /&gt;Had a late afternoon coffee with my husband. That was really super nice to get to spend some extra time with him.&lt;br /&gt;Went back to work. It's tiring and stressful. Left 10 minutes early.&lt;br /&gt;Went to Walgreens to pick up a prescription, drop of the new increased-dosage prescriptions, and pick up a few other items. There was a long line, so I had to stand there for a while. That's never fun.&lt;br /&gt;Came home and decided I needed to buck up and take a shower. It's amazing to me how tiring a shower is. I washed my hair too, which is even more exhausting.. something about the motion and the arms over the head... still didn't get around to the shaving part... one of these days...  lol&lt;br /&gt;Got out of the shower and started having a lot of muscle spasms and twitching in my arms and right side of my back. Took 1/2 a zanaflex. Didn't seem to do much.&lt;br /&gt;Took the dog for a really short walk. My right hamstring really started acting up, so I had to turn back pretty quickly.&lt;br /&gt;Wrote a blog entry :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ttfn&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2300225881304285019-1637696327151035096?l=justagirlwithfibro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justagirlwithfibro.blogspot.com/feeds/1637696327151035096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justagirlwithfibro.blogspot.com/2010/02/2182010.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2300225881304285019/posts/default/1637696327151035096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2300225881304285019/posts/default/1637696327151035096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justagirlwithfibro.blogspot.com/2010/02/2182010.html' title='2/18/2010'/><author><name>FMSGirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13166114342945561976</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hPHrTqNBD-M/Sot2Wi_-bHI/AAAAAAAAALA/OO4GvNE7ch8/S220/angelsparkle.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2300225881304285019.post-240713333778725498</id><published>2010-02-16T13:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-16T13:04:01.716-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm A Cowardly Lion - I Need Courage</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I wake up to the sound of my alarm. Shit. I hit the snooze button.&lt;br /&gt;I wake up to the sound of my alarm. Shit. I hit the snooze button.&lt;br /&gt;I wake up to the sound of my alarm. Shit. Was that three times? I can’t stall anymore. I have to get up. I have to go to work. I’m so exhausted. This sucks.&lt;br /&gt;I roll out of bed. Try to stretch. Pain surges through my body. I look over at my husband and my doggie. They look so warm and comfy in the king sized bed with the soft flannel sheets and the down comforter. Bah. This sucks.&lt;br /&gt;I stumble into the bathroom. Wow, I’m really having a lot of pain this morning. The warm surging ache that starts deep in my bones. The burning sensation in my face. The sharp stabbing pain in my shoulder, neck, back. The strained muscles in my hips and hamstrings. Fuck. I didn’t sleep well again. I’m worried that the Ambien CR is becoming less effective. What am I going to do if that stops working? This has been several nights in a row now.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The dark circles under my eyes are really looking bad. I look exhausted. I feel worse.&lt;br /&gt;I go through the motions. Medicine. Bathroom. Brush Teeth. Feed Fish. Get Dressed. Brush Hair. Put on Jewelry. Feed Dog. Kiss Husband Goodbye. Kiss Doggie Goodbye. I’m out the door in 20 minutes. God how I want to lay back down.&lt;br /&gt;I drive to work, barely aware, barely awake. Just have to get there so I can take my pain meds. I think about how I’d like to go back to sleep. But really, it’s not as if I’d feel any better if I slept more. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;In my heart and my mind I feel like I need to do something less stressful, with less authority, accountability and responsibility. For years, I have ached over being the breadwinner of our family. I never wanted that, and it’s a huge burden for me. Yet, I love my husband, and I support what he does. I want him to have the opportunity to keep after his dreams and goals. He’s made lots of strides, amazing advances, really, yet nothing pays off financially. It’s so difficult. He promises that things won’t always be like this, but I don’t honestly know how much longer I can continue on with what I am doing. It’s too much for me. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;That’s the thing about Fibromyalgia. It seems like a lot of us who get it are these overachiever, do it all types. Then we get sick. It seems like I’ve gotten exponentially worse since I was diagnosed. There’s no magic cure, there’s nothing that anyone can say that will definitely help, and then everything I read and the things I am told by my different doctors all conflict with each other. Meanwhile, I stand by, wondering. If I do “x” will it help? If I do “y” will that help? I try to do the things the doctors suggest, but they tell me I have to come to many of these choices on my own. I know that I don’t want to work the job I’m doing any more. They have been pretty good to me here, but I really honestly do not believe I am capable of doing this type of work anymore. I am struggling. A ton. My brain nor my body can keep up. I’ve tried to relax. I’ve tried taking extra days off. I just honestly believe that I am no longer capable of doing this anymore, because of Fibromyalgia.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;People really do not understand what being in constant pain for this long does to you. It expends all of my energy and soul, leaving me with very little left to put in to living life. It’s so tiring, and it builds and builds as the days go on. I’ve never been a very positive person, so trying to be super positive about life and about the situation just feels fake and contrived. I’m finding that it’s really hard to come to acceptance, mainly because it feels like others won’t allow me to do so. I truly think that I need to stop working this job. I have come to that conclusion. I tried to talk to my husband about that, and even about just cutting back my hours, and I don’t know if it’s financial or what, but he just doesn’t agree. I talked to my boss about working less hours, and he doesn’t agree. I know my problems go beyond just working less. And I do think that having some job or volunteer position and regularity is a good thing. But there is a point where it’s too intense. I feel cornered and trapped- a place I have spent a long, long time. I guess I don’t know if doing something different will help either, but that’s what I feel I should do. That’s what all my reading and research point me towards. My life isn’t going to change unless I actually make some changes to it. I’m tired of going through all this needless emotional torment. It’s my turn to be greedy and selfish, and be an asshole about getting what I want. That’s really hard. I say these things here in preparation for trying to actually do them. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Fibro sucks. It’s changed my life. I need to make changes in my life to coincide. It’s the old “but you don’t look sick” that makes it just that much tougher. If I was in a wheelchair, no one would expect me to run a mile. It almost hurts more because I’m not sure that people believe me. My husband said to me the other day- it’s all in your head that you are in pain, right? Well, I guess, yes and no. Pain is always all in your head. It’s your personal perception of feeling something. Am I injured and need to seek medical attention for a cut or a broken bone? No. (though I have failed to go to the doctor with a broken bone, gee, thank you fibro…) Am I in a hell of a lot of pain? Yes. I feel lots of pain. I am hypersensitive to it. And light and noises and temperature and touch. Some times something will bother me, and later it won’t, and later still, it will bother me again. I have problems sleeping. I have chronic fatigue. I have IBS. The list goes on. I feel shitty all of the time. I feel like everything is the tough road for me and my family, all through life. It could be worse, but I just don’t take comfort in that. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I really want to feel better. I really want to make some drastic changes. I feel like the cowardly lion- I just need the courage to do it. And the support. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2300225881304285019-240713333778725498?l=justagirlwithfibro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justagirlwithfibro.blogspot.com/feeds/240713333778725498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justagirlwithfibro.blogspot.com/2010/02/im-cowardly-lion-i-need-courage.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2300225881304285019/posts/default/240713333778725498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2300225881304285019/posts/default/240713333778725498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justagirlwithfibro.blogspot.com/2010/02/im-cowardly-lion-i-need-courage.html' title='I&apos;m A Cowardly Lion - I Need Courage'/><author><name>FMSGirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13166114342945561976</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hPHrTqNBD-M/Sot2Wi_-bHI/AAAAAAAAALA/OO4GvNE7ch8/S220/angelsparkle.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2300225881304285019.post-6310474390685925201</id><published>2010-01-31T14:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-31T15:53:40.527-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='spoonie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fibro'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fibromyalgia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='journey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='change'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fms'/><title type='text'>Life is a journey, not a destination.</title><content type='html'>I've been trying to work out a new blog post. I've started and stopped a hundred times. Written, deleted... there's so much I want to say, but the words just aren't coming out right. It probably has something to do with how scrambled my brain is right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a nutshell, I pushed ahead like I always do, and I thought I was in the acceptance stage of things with Fibro, but I have come to realize that is not true... boy is it not true. I am actually way back in step one- denial. I'm also feeling some of the later steps too- pain &amp;amp; guilt, anger &amp;amp; bargaining, and depression, reflection and loneliness.  Sure, I have made some progress with things along the way, and I don't want to belittle that... but I have a very long way to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As usual, I tried to skip the journey and get right to the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had this thought that if I stopped coming in to work on the weekends, and cut back to working only 9 1/2 hours a day, 5 days a week, that it would be enough, and that I would get well enough to go on with life. I've always been tough, and even though I consistently get knocked back, I forge ahead. I put the needs of others in front of myself- the people at work need me to do [insert five hundred million and one things here], and if I don't do it, who will? My husband needs me, I have to make money, I have to take care of the dog, I have to, I have to, I have to... but the blanks are never to "I have to for ME." I've known this about myself for years. At least I admit that it's a problem, but it is one I have yet to tackle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For many years prior to Fibromyalgia,  I have been stricken with random illnesses from unexplainable rashes, to IBS, to depression, to shingles, all of which my doctors told me were due to stress. I'd try to do a few little things, but I've never really tackled the problem. I'm not even sure how to do that? So when I got Fibro, and things got worse and worse, I just tried to make my little cut-backs, take a bunch of prescriptions and try my best to get in some walking. It is not working. Not one bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aside from the symptoms not getting better, it is really intensely difficult to be in chronic pain all of the time. And to make matters worse, in yet another effort to not inconvenience others, I have bottled this all up inside. Until a few days ago, I don't think my husband even knew that I am in constant pain, 100% of the time, always. There are no times when it subsides. There are times when one part or another gets worse and better, but all day every day I hurt, and it never ever leaves my mind. That really is enough to drive a person mad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then comes along the anger. Why me? It's not fair. Why do I have to be the one to suffer? Why do I have to change my life? My expectations of myself? Everyone else's expectations of me? And how do I do that? How do I still feel accomplished and successful, when I can no longer even do the things that I wanted to do before? I mean, I didn't even feel accomplished then... how can I even feel good about myself now, when I have to do less? What happens when I ask for special treatment, and it turns out to not be enough? Where is the line that my job will no longer be able to keep me there?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My therapist told me that it is an experiment. We just have to keep trying until we find what works. Her suggestion is that I should only work four days a week, and less hours on those four days. That is extremely hard for me to accept, let alone ask for... or rather tell them that I need.  When did I become this person who could never ask for the things I need? Why do I just want to take care of everone else but myself? But I digress... The horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach is then what if that's not enough? What if I can only do three days? Or none at all? I hate this. It really sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I rescheduled my appointment with my Rheumatologist so that I could see him tomorrow instead of in a few weeks. I want to get his thoughts on this too, before I go talk to my boss about the change. Something tells me he will agree with my therapist, or maybe be even more drastic... One thing I'm thinking is that maybe I can try to do five days, but only 6 hours a day. I don't know how I will get my work done though. As it is, I work about 50 hours a week, and I can't get everything done. (as I proofread this, I see that herein lies the problem... I think I need to find a way to erase that thought of getting everything done, and find a different path. But again, I digress...) I'm wondering inside if I am going to have to try a different career, or at least working someplace that's less demanding. Where I work, the people are very much like myself, type A, overachievers... and I'm not sure if the lifestyle I need will fit in there. I guess all I can do is try.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's really hard to know that I have to change. Drastically. I cannot continue on living the way I am right now. And to make it more difficult, I have to realize that I can't get there in the blink of an eye. There's a road I must travel; transporter beams are not real, nor realistic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I must now begin, putting one foot in front of the other, asking for and accepting the hands of others around me, as I go along my journey.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2300225881304285019-6310474390685925201?l=justagirlwithfibro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justagirlwithfibro.blogspot.com/feeds/6310474390685925201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justagirlwithfibro.blogspot.com/2010/01/life-is-journey-not-destination.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2300225881304285019/posts/default/6310474390685925201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2300225881304285019/posts/default/6310474390685925201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justagirlwithfibro.blogspot.com/2010/01/life-is-journey-not-destination.html' title='Life is a journey, not a destination.'/><author><name>FMSGirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13166114342945561976</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hPHrTqNBD-M/Sot2Wi_-bHI/AAAAAAAAALA/OO4GvNE7ch8/S220/angelsparkle.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2300225881304285019.post-2051804576508408633</id><published>2009-11-05T20:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T21:55:49.484-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='spoonie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fibro'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='normal'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fibromyalgia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hope'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fms'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='attitude'/><title type='text'>What is "Normal" anyway?</title><content type='html'>Howdy. Sorry I haven't written for a while. Things got pretty rocky and stressful here, but as they say, sometimes you have to hit the bottom before you can start climbing back up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Between being in constant pain, not sleeping, not healing, being angry and frustrated and disliking my job- well I was just a train-wreck. So over the past few weeks, I've been working hard and separating out the pieces. While I haven't actually changed a lot of things, I have changed my attitude and my outlook. You have probably heard the phrases "attitude is everything" and "life is 10% what happens to you and 90% how you react to it." I used to think that kind of stuff was a load of you-know-what, but now I finally see what people meant with those phrases.  I created the total downward spiral I went through all on my own. Sure, I didn't choose to get Fibromyalgia, I didn't choose to live life in pain, but I can choose what's next. I can choose how to live each day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I admit, I am, by nature, a fairly negative person. I'm not one of those happy-go-luck people who always have a smile on their face and a skip in their step. And honestly, I don't want to be that kind of person either. What I do want to do is live my life. That's right- simple, plain as day. I want to live life. So the question is, how do you live life?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a long time, I had it all wrong. I thought that living life was being perfect, and that if I could just be perfect, that then I could finally be happy and content. I just wanted everything to be normal. I often thought to myself that I could just get a week where everything was normal or even a few days... No problems at work, no pain, no frustration, just things would be normal and perfect and then I'd be good....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I bet you can guess how well that worked out for me....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I began to take count of what I really wanted to do in life. I finally reasoned with myself that I should just do what I can, and that is good enough. I had to realize that&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; I &lt;/span&gt;was the one who was putting all of the unrealistic expectations on myself. I am a pretty amazing person, and I was the only one who was holding myself to a bar so high in the sky that no-one could attain, let alone maintain a place there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have become my very own coach. I remind myself, quite often, of what is reasonable, what is realistic, what I can do, and what I cannot. I keep the thoughts going about moving at a reasonable pace, and that if I push and push, that nothing will be left to give- and that won't do anyone any good. I give myself time to breathe. I take nice long soaks in a hot tub. I think about all of the things that I did accomplish throughout the day. Mentally, I have accomplished so much, and I know how to keep going in the right direction, finally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet one thing has still discouraged me: I am still in a lot of pain. Somewhere in my mind I thought that when I reduced my stress and got myself mentally in a good place that the pain would at least somewhat subside. Unfortunately that has not happened. In fact, the pain has persisted, and gotten worse (or at least it feels that way) since I was diagnosed back in May. I spoke with my therapist last night about this issue at length. She put a thought in my head that had not occurred to me before: Instead of feeling that I need to fight this and the pain will go away, it's time to accept it. It's not like Fibromyalgia is some disease where if you take the right medication it will be cured. This is a chronic syndrome, and it will be with me forever. So instead of going to the doctor over and over and wondering when I will feel normal again... it's time to manage this. Time to accept this is part of me. Time to live my life and know that I may never feel "normal" again, but that doesn't mean I can't feel good and it doesn't mean that I can't live. Things may be different than they were before Fibro, but so what. That's okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The work for me now begins on reminding myself and coaching myself of that.  It's actually kind of nice knowing that 'acceptance' is the last in the stages of grief. I feel good about that. I think that once I stop focusing so much on wondering if I'll ever stop having a flare or if it'll get worse, that I honestly might feel better because I don't have to worry about it anymore. I've noticed that with many other things- once I'm not obsessing over them with worry, they really aren't such a problem after all. Funny how that happens...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In thinking about all this, I started really thinking about what "normal" meant anyway. How often could I even say that things were "normal" at any time of my life? What does that even mean? In reflection, I'm thinking that a state of flux, learning, growing, sadness, happiness, etc. IS in fact "normal." And quite frankly, probably a lot more interesting than a life of absolutely nothing happening. I don't really want to sit around in a catatonic state all day, after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I'd really like to do is help others who are going through this as well. It's rough, and I understand what it's like when people try to give you the answers, but the answers don't seem like something that will work for you. I know what it feels like to put so much effort into trying to do what the others suggest, but you just don't know how to make it work. I know it might be the same coming from me as well, but what I can do is give you hope. It takes time, self-reflection,  and desire. We all have bad days, but have faith. In as much to help any of you, I'm also writing this to remind myself to have faith when I have one of those bad days, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In closing, I'll leave you with a quote I recently read that I really liked:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia, bookman old style, palatino linotype, book antiqua, palatino, trebuchet ms, helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, avante garde, century gothic, comic sans ms, times, times new roman, serif;"&gt;"If you don't like something change it; if you can't change it, change the way you think about it." ~Mary Engelbreit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2300225881304285019-2051804576508408633?l=justagirlwithfibro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justagirlwithfibro.blogspot.com/feeds/2051804576508408633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justagirlwithfibro.blogspot.com/2009/11/what-is-normal-anyway.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2300225881304285019/posts/default/2051804576508408633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2300225881304285019/posts/default/2051804576508408633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justagirlwithfibro.blogspot.com/2009/11/what-is-normal-anyway.html' title='What is &quot;Normal&quot; anyway?'/><author><name>FMSGirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13166114342945561976</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hPHrTqNBD-M/Sot2Wi_-bHI/AAAAAAAAALA/OO4GvNE7ch8/S220/angelsparkle.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2300225881304285019.post-3674537903856393946</id><published>2009-08-27T09:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-27T10:26:34.225-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='chronic pain'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fibromyalgia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stress'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rock bottom'/><title type='text'>Rock Bottom. Help.</title><content type='html'>It's happened. I've hit rock bottom. I guess you have to hit it in order to move back up. I have to make some changes and fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always liked this phrase: If you do what you always did, you'll get what you always got. And then there's the definition of insanity: doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the real question is, being as that I know those things, why do I live that way?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had an appointment with my therapist last night. It's really hard to hear the truth. Especially when the truth is that I'm literally killing myself by trying so hard. She said I'm having that fight or flight response- and my body is fighting like hell and it's killing me. She said those words, many times. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It's killing me. &lt;/span&gt;Then later, my husband sees me depressed and writhing in pain, and he says that it seems like my pain has increased a ton since I got diagnosed with Fibro, and then he asked if I thought maybe it was all in my head. I know he's just asking a question and not trying to be mean, but that really hurt. I could go on about all the reasons my stress has increased and my ability to manage it has decreased, but really, what's the point. I need to move forward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here's where I really need help. I need to figure out how to not over-invest myself in things, particularly work. I want to do a great job, but I need to stop feeling like I own the place and that all of the problems are my burden. The thing is, I'm the office manager. I've always felt that it was my responsibility to make sure we made money and that things ran smoothly. The bigger issue now is that we are in financial trouble. We are really down to skin and bones staff. I'm the only administrative person left. I answer phones, I do the mail, I call for collections, on top of all the things I'm supposed to be doing as manager; I do it all.    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How does one separate themselves to not bleed the company's colors, yet still be a great employee? I truly feel lost at this. I cannot go on like I have been though. I'm going to get swallowed up from the stress.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; It's killing me.&lt;/span&gt; I wish I could figure out why I feel such great responsibility for this and yet I'm completely irresponsible when it comes to actually taking care of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If anyone has any ideas, or any websites I should look at or books to read... anything. I'm open to suggestion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot go on like this. I have to make a change. Now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2300225881304285019-3674537903856393946?l=justagirlwithfibro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justagirlwithfibro.blogspot.com/feeds/3674537903856393946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justagirlwithfibro.blogspot.com/2009/08/rock-bottom-help.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2300225881304285019/posts/default/3674537903856393946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2300225881304285019/posts/default/3674537903856393946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justagirlwithfibro.blogspot.com/2009/08/rock-bottom-help.html' title='Rock Bottom. Help.'/><author><name>FMSGirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13166114342945561976</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hPHrTqNBD-M/Sot2Wi_-bHI/AAAAAAAAALA/OO4GvNE7ch8/S220/angelsparkle.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2300225881304285019.post-4084347812798374707</id><published>2009-08-26T09:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-26T09:37:25.693-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Title Goes Here 8.26.09</title><content type='html'>I hate trying to come up with a title for my posts. I'm just not that creative.... I guess that's why I'm married to a professional writer then, huh? lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, just checking in. My apologies in advance for the bummer post... Yesterday was one of the worst pain days I've had in a while. Everything is seizing up on top of the normal aches and pains and then amplified. It was a 'let's take vicodan all day long kind of day.' Despite the Lyrica and an Ativan last night, I still couldn't sleep because I was hurting so much. Today I feel like I got beat up. I'm exhausted, I can barely walk (though I'm really not supposed to anyway...). This just plain sucks. My right arm is hurting so badly I could barely get my teeth brushed as a two-handed effort and I couldn't brush my hair (though unfortunately that seems to be a regular occurrence lately- that goodness for ponytail holders). Today's not shaping up to be a better day yet. :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm taking a couple of deep breaths and willing myself to get through the day as best I can.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2300225881304285019-4084347812798374707?l=justagirlwithfibro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justagirlwithfibro.blogspot.com/feeds/4084347812798374707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justagirlwithfibro.blogspot.com/2009/08/title-goes-here-82609.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2300225881304285019/posts/default/4084347812798374707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2300225881304285019/posts/default/4084347812798374707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justagirlwithfibro.blogspot.com/2009/08/title-goes-here-82609.html' title='Title Goes Here 8.26.09'/><author><name>FMSGirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13166114342945561976</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hPHrTqNBD-M/Sot2Wi_-bHI/AAAAAAAAALA/OO4GvNE7ch8/S220/angelsparkle.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2300225881304285019.post-2169590252986302638</id><published>2009-08-24T12:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T12:36:35.016-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Living and Lyrica</title><content type='html'>Update on Lyrica. I'm feeling exhausted. It's almost impossible to wake up in the morning. I stopped taking any sleeping pills, so I guess I should try adding them back in... who knows. I'm having weird dreams, and while I don't remember waking up throughout the night, I haven't been this tired for a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt a bit less pain over the weekend, but now that I'm back at work, I'm really hurting. So is it the stress? Or having to wake up and not take naps? I'm also feeling really depressed. I'm really tired of being in pain, and I'm tired of wearing this stupid boot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized that I don't ever do anything fun, but when I try to figure out what I'd like to do for fun, I have no idea. I think this is all wearing down my husband too. His mom has Chronic Fatigue, so he's used to being around someone who's sick a lot, however he's eluded to me that she was in good spirits moreso than I ever am. But really... she didn't have to work a full time job,  and be basically sole provider for the family. She can just rest when she's not feeling well. I have to go to work. And work is more stressful than ever right now. Money's not coming in, we've had to cut lots of staff, so while I'm the office manager, I'm also the one who does everything. I'm trying to hire a part time receptionist to help out some... but my god, the resumes are horrid. And what is this all for? I just don't feel like anything I'm doing makes a difference to anyone, let alone myself. I'm definitely not where I thought I'd be at my age. I tried thinking about making some benchmarks for myself- I'm trying to remember that life is a journey, not a destination... but seriously... I have no clue what to do in this journey, but it just feels like I keep getting a flat tire over and over and I don't make it anywhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I admit, I am not good at seeing things I have accomplished, because I'm always trying to push farther ahead. But what can I do now? Who wants to be around someone like me? I don't. But I feel lost on how to change. I feel like life has passed me by and now I'm just stuck here. I worry so much about what my plan should be that I never actually &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;do&lt;/span&gt; anything. And I'm honestly not sure I even have the energy to do anything. I completely use myself up at work every day. The worst part is, that I never meant to have a career. I meant to be a stay at home mom. I'm 32 and life is just passing me by. I'm not &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;living&lt;/span&gt;. But how do I start?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the big question is... is this the Lyrica talking, or is this something I really need to address? I have thought these things for years, but I feel a lot more down about it than usual. I guess it's real, but maybe amplified.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2300225881304285019-2169590252986302638?l=justagirlwithfibro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justagirlwithfibro.blogspot.com/feeds/2169590252986302638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justagirlwithfibro.blogspot.com/2009/08/living-and-lyrica.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2300225881304285019/posts/default/2169590252986302638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2300225881304285019/posts/default/2169590252986302638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justagirlwithfibro.blogspot.com/2009/08/living-and-lyrica.html' title='Living and Lyrica'/><author><name>FMSGirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13166114342945561976</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hPHrTqNBD-M/Sot2Wi_-bHI/AAAAAAAAALA/OO4GvNE7ch8/S220/angelsparkle.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2300225881304285019.post-7030277979371114261</id><published>2009-08-20T18:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-20T18:56:11.452-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Floopy?</title><content type='html'>One of these days I'll post my back story... but not today... I'm too tired to think that hard...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Skip to the not too distant past. Me + Cymbalta = floopy (or that's what my husband lovingly referred to it as...) couldn't focus, couldn't think clearly, crashed the front of my car into a giant stationary pillar in a parking garage... you know... floopy. ;)  So I told my Rheum that I just couldn't deal with it and that it didn't help the pain anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cut to a few days off Cymbalta... holy moley, maybe it was helping with the pain... because now it's back, with a vengeance... and it has spread :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read a post somewhere the other day that described fibro pain as this: a sunburn under your skin with spikes in it poking out through your skin, which is also sunburned and then an elephant sitting on top of it. Well, I'd say that sums it up. Maybe add setting it on fire somewhere in there too. I mean I have a few different types of fibro pain, but I think that pain that radiates out from my bones is the worst. I used to only get it in my legs once or twice a week. And now we're up to every day, sometimes several times a day and it's not just my legs but also my arms. I sure hope the Rheum is up for calling in some vicodan refills because that's the only thing that even remotely takes the edge off. Fun stuff...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and speaking of the Rheum, I saw him on Monday, and since I revoked the use of Cymbalta, he wants to put me on Lyrica... my mind immediately goes to Lyrica = weight gain, and lots of it. (or so I have read) I mean, I really can't afford to gain another ounce, and since I can't work out because of my ankle &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;*music stops*&lt;/span&gt; oh yes- to top all of this other fun stuff off, I twisted my ankle, walked on it for 6 weeks because I figured it was just fibro pain and not really injured, before I let anyone convince me to go to the doctor about it... which resulted in a fracture of my leg bone, a bruise inside of my ankle bone (which is a surprisingly serious deal) and a completely torn ligament. Ohhh fffffuuuuudge... so I have to wear a boot that goes all the way to my knee (my husband has deemed me "Robo-Wife" and loves to sing the Robo-Cop theme whenever I enter a room), an ankle brace under the boot, walk with a cane... well not really supposed to even walk... and see a physical therapist. And they tell we this might take upwards of a year to heal.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hPHrTqNBD-M/So37cvnfPlI/AAAAAAAAALk/SunFBrBTre0/s1600-h/deco-5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hPHrTqNBD-M/So37cvnfPlI/AAAAAAAAALk/SunFBrBTre0/s320/deco-5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372226401759870546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; YEEHAW! The fun never stops...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(like the picture? That's the picture from the website of the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ossur.co.uk/Products/foot"&gt;boot maker&lt;/a&gt;. Suuurreee.... I'd like to see a guy with a broken whatever that requires the use of a boot get out of that hammock. Ha!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*music starts back up again*&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;where was I? Oh yes, Lyrica. So as much as I don't want to take it and am completely paranoid about gaining more weight, I'm still trying it. I started it Monday. I'm not feeling any better as far as pain episodes yet, though I will say that it has helped with the sleeping problem. (you know, the whole waking up a million times throughout the night thing...) Though it's reeeeeaaaallly hard to get up in the am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really loathe the fact that I have to trade one set of problems for another. I mean, really- either be in horrible pain or be floopy; pain or gain lots of weight. The pain really gets to me, but I'm not sure if it's worth not being able to function, or gaining more weight. If it even works... It's not like the Cymbalta was even making me pain free.&lt;br /&gt;Ah, fibro. &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, that's it for now. I'll keep you posted on how the Lyrica does. Tah Tah!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2300225881304285019-7030277979371114261?l=justagirlwithfibro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justagirlwithfibro.blogspot.com/feeds/7030277979371114261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justagirlwithfibro.blogspot.com/2009/08/floopy.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2300225881304285019/posts/default/7030277979371114261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2300225881304285019/posts/default/7030277979371114261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justagirlwithfibro.blogspot.com/2009/08/floopy.html' title='Floopy?'/><author><name>FMSGirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13166114342945561976</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hPHrTqNBD-M/Sot2Wi_-bHI/AAAAAAAAALA/OO4GvNE7ch8/S220/angelsparkle.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hPHrTqNBD-M/So37cvnfPlI/AAAAAAAAALk/SunFBrBTre0/s72-c/deco-5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2300225881304285019.post-2562832121932879788</id><published>2009-08-18T20:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T21:08:54.639-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just A Girl...</title><content type='html'>Just A Girl. That's me.  I have a husband, a dog, a job, a car, and a freight train full of stress... you know, your typical average female.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I've had some drama, well lots of drama, all throughout my life. And here I am, 32 and recently diagnosed with Fibromyalgia (FMS).  I've been in a constant flare since February. I got diagnosed in May. And here we are at mid-August. I've been to see a multitude of doctors, read far too many articles on the Internet, and I'm still sitting here at square one. (actually I think I took a few steps back from there...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At any rate, I thought it was high-time that I started chronicling this experience to help myself see where I'm headed, where I'm at and where I've been.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this part of my journey begins, a journey of a girl with Fibro, just trying to find a way to lower her stress, reduce her pain and lead a successful and prosperous life. I hope you'll join me, as any journey is always more pleasant with friends at your side.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2300225881304285019-2562832121932879788?l=justagirlwithfibro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justagirlwithfibro.blogspot.com/feeds/2562832121932879788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justagirlwithfibro.blogspot.com/2009/08/just-girl.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2300225881304285019/posts/default/2562832121932879788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2300225881304285019/posts/default/2562832121932879788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justagirlwithfibro.blogspot.com/2009/08/just-girl.html' title='Just A Girl...'/><author><name>FMSGirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13166114342945561976</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hPHrTqNBD-M/Sot2Wi_-bHI/AAAAAAAAALA/OO4GvNE7ch8/S220/angelsparkle.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
