Possum Shopping

Today was highly amusing for me. It isn't often that my husband and I get to take a day to just go enjoy each other's company. We drove into town this afternoon to have lunch and do some window shopping...at least, that's what I thought we were doing until I realized that my husband had ulterior motives.
To know why I was/am so amused, you first have to understand my husband. I have loved this man for going on 20 years. I have always thought that God gave him too much testosterone. His mission in life is to provide and protect. He may as well have those two words tattooed on his forehead. He is all about God, Family and Country.
To give you a clearer picture, this is a man who takes great pride in his work. He can build anything and wants it done right the first time. When he hunts, he refuses to sit in a tree stand, preferring to stalk and track his prey. I have had two stalkers in the past 20 years (This was ten years ago). My husband followed one of them home one day after catching him driving slowly past our house. He walked right into that man's house and....let's just say that man stopped stalking me after that day. He's an all around country boy and a man of few words unless he's railing against the injustice that is happening in the world today. I do understand why he gets so upset with the state of our country right now. If something interferes with his instinct to provide for and protect his family, it sets him on edge. I love him for it.
I, on the other hand, am goofy, soft hearted and an animal lover. This past summer we had more than our fair share of unwanted kitties dumped on our property, usually in the middle of the night. There for a while, I would wake up to a new hungry, scared and confused fur baby every morning. At one point, we were up to 13 and my husband would go on and on about how I needed to find them homes. I found those homes as fast as I could but I wasn't going to let them go hungry in the meantime, though my husband complained constantly.
A Lavender Pointe Siamese (according to the vet) female was dumped at our house and she was pregnant....I heard about that for five weeks but since I am fully aware that other than his Mother, I am the only person he has ever backed down for, I just let him cuss under his breath and ignored it because I knew that placing Siamese babies would be a snap. She had five kittens and once they were weaned and wormed, I put them up for adoption and just like I thought, they found homes very quickly. Finally we were down to the last kitten, a little boy and I took his picture and told my husband that I was going to put the baby online the next day. The man had a melt down! It was like watching a two year old. He actually yelled at me, "You're not getting rid of my Possum!" At first, I wasn't sure who he was talking about because there were more kitties outside but then he put 'his' Siamese kitten in our bed and told me that this is his kitten and he had named him Possum.
I don't think 'shock' is a strong enough word. My hunny has never taken to a cat before. This cat, however, now has a special place in our bed, he has to eat special food (for no other reason than my husband wants him too) and what was supposed to be window shopping, lunch and time together today turned into Possum shopping. Again. This is the third time this month!
This kitten gets excited when Daddy comes home. He runs to him and puts his paws up to be held and my husband lights up to be welcomed home that way....apparently, I am now chopped liver. Today our afternoon together turned into a mission to buy Possum the perfect scratching post and a Christmas stocking. I still can't believe this big, strong, man shops for this kitten like it's his child. It cracks me up because it's something I would do. I must be rubbing off on the man. Anyway, after three stores, we finally found the right scratching post but we couldn't find a stocking that is just the right size. Fortunately, my husband did find two tinkle balls that Possum 'just has to have', another round, plastic toy that has a tinkle ball permanently stuck inside so the poor cat can make himself crazy by NEVER getting it out, a bag of 'special treats' and more of his special food. I had to run to the furniture section of the store in a hurry to laugh behind my husband's back when he began digging through the pet sweaters, trying to find Possum's size. Luckily for Possum, they didn't carry his size.
The point to my telling you about our day is this....it's the little things that make a life. It's the smallest things that bring a person joy. Sure, there are those big moments that make our hearts swell and bring tears to our eyes but those things don't come everyday. What do are the small things; a beautiful sunrise, an afternoon with a loved one, a good meal and the love between a big, strong, man and his kitten.
Chronic illness brings stress. Add to that financial stress, work stress and family stress and it can all combine to rob you of your joy - if you let it. Today I could have said, "No. I hurt like crazy. I don't want to go to one more store." and my husband would have taken me home without question. Rather than do that, I took in my husband's devious grin and allowed myself to enjoy the moment of joy I had been given. Even on my worst day of pain, I can find something to make me smile. I believe that even with chronic pain, we were put here to do more than just survive this life. I look for those moments of joy, those moments when I snort through my nose, trying to hold in the laughter while I run to the furniture department to keep from laughing AT (not with) my husband.
Be aware of the moments that make you smile through out the day and before you go to bed at night, add them up. The more you focus on what is right in your life, the less intimidating all of those other stresses seem to be. They shrink in the face of joy so keep your eyes open for it and you'll notice, they happen more often than you realized.

                                                                           Possum

What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Stranger

I have a love/hate relationship with our bed. I love that it is so warm but I hate the mattress with a passion. When we bought it a year ago, it was on sale and we thought we were getting an amazing deal but six months later, the beautiful king size Serta pillow top turned on us.
The pillow top collapsed and the spots where we lay sunk, allowing the springs to spring up into our spines. After the umpteenth time that I wrestled with it to turn it so the lumps would even out, I noticed a minuscule sticker on the back of the 'Do Not Remove This Tag' tag that stated in all of it's ant print glory that the stupid thing had been a 'return' and we had not been informed of this before we bought it. Had I caught that tiny sticker in the first six months, we could have returned it but alas, my rebellious side had not kicked in and I had not removed the 'Do Not Remove' tag. For the time being, I have folded three fluffy blankets and piled them on top of one another to fill the body shaped hole on my side of the bed. My husband can sleep anywhere and through anything. I hate him just a little bit for that.
It's hard enough to get comfortable in that bed but when the weather takes a drastic turn and brings cold temperatures and rain, sleep with Fibro becomes impossible. Cold weather changes bring out the boogie men, not man, because he always brings friends. So rather than wake my slumbering husband, I got up and moved.
I swept the floors. I stretched. I brushed the dogs and clipped their nails - I can't say they really appreciated that at four o'clock in the morning but chronic pain requires movement. Yes, it hurts to move and I know that many, many people with chronic pain are afraid to move because movement hurts but here's the thing.....remaining still hurts worse.
Movement warms the muscles and loosens the trigger points and while it won't make the bad weather go away and it certainly won't make that mattress any more comfortable, it will help me get through the worst part of the pain.
I am fully aware that a crash is coming after last night's no rest fest but I can minimize the damage by moving and hydrating and that is my message to you this morning. Sometimes you absolutely know that a flare has packed it's bags and is on it's way for a visit but you get to decide if it is moving in or just staying for a short, don't bother to unpack, visit.
Before my unwelcome guest fully arrives, I intend to get some work done. Then, luckily for me, I prepared a months worth of meals this past weekend and put them in the freezer just in case the weather took a cold turn. Now all I have to do is pop one in the crock pot and when I crash this afternoon, my family will still get a healthy, home cooked meal.
Chronic illness can be managed. By pushing through that initial pain through gentle movement and planning for unexpected or expected flares, you'll give your body exactly what it needs to recover more quickly than you would have if you had remained still.
I will be posting my favorite make ahead crock pot recipes soon so that you can give them a try. They have saved my family from eating cheap take-out on more than a few occasions, something we are all thankful for. I also see a new mattress on the horizon, something I will be incredibly thankful for! In the mean time, I'll be hanging out in my footie pajamas, watching cartoons. It's just that kind of day.

and all the King's horses and all the King's men...

I have been processing new information and listening to the tumblers click loudly into place. The saying, 'Things are not always as they seem' now holds a whole new meaning for me.
I grew up in a version of Dante's Inferno. I'm not complaining and I don't need your pity, it was my normal. It's just the way things were, though I never knew why the adults around me had built the inferno and forced us to live within it's walls....until recently.
I escaped. Not unscathed, mind you, but intact enough to see the madness for what it was and run the other direction. I knew what I did not want to be and became the kind of person that I wanted to surround myself with. That person was always inside me, I just couldn't let her out until I had escaped.
I have spent my adult years working every day to be a better person than I was the day before. I like it that way. There is always room for self improvement and setting a good example for our children. As an adult, even though there have been hardships, I have been blessed, but the greatest lesson I think I have learned is to take responsibility for myself.
Every word, decision, thought and action stem from choices that I make every moment of every day. No one can make me do anything. It's all on me. I alone own it. I alone am responsible for it. I like it that way too.
I have fought in my adult years to turn around and face my demons. I am aware that as I face each one, no matter how painful, they will no longer hold sway over my life and when I finally stand before God, I will do so with a clean conscience. I hope.
Someone once said that childhood is a thing that we survive. I survived mine and have spent a great deal of time picking up the pieces. Many of those pieces never fit into place. I didn't know it, but I had never seen the picture on the puzzle box so there was no way for me to put the pieces where they belong.
I never knew why, but three different times in my life, older relatives who were facing death apologized to me. One said, "I am so sorry that I never spoke up. You didn't deserve that." Another said, "I wish I had stepped in but I was afraid and I am ashamed of that. Will you forgive me?" One more said, "We all knew what was happening to you but it was a time that you just didn't get involved in a family's affairs. I should have, you were such a sweet little girl and I am sorry that I didn't help you."
I thought that all of these people were only referring to the abuse. I had no idea there was more to the story but 24 hours ago, someone that I barely know, who is also facing death, showed me the whole entire picture on the puzzle box and now all of those extra pieces are fitting into place.
It is a lot to absorb, listening to each tumbler click into place. I now understand that the Inferno was built long before I was born. I was just one more generation born within the flames. I was shown the lives that were destroyed by those who built the Inferno and those who, like me, were fortunate enough to escape but still carry the scars from the flames.
One thing that I will carry with me, even after all of the new information has fully sunk in and I am able to come to terms with the blackness that resides in the hearts of those who feign innocence is this; no matter who you are, no matter what has happened to you, no matter who has harmed you, YOU are the only person responsible for your actions. We each make hundreds of choices a day. Those choices should always, no matter what, reflect who you are as the person you strive to be. Good, bad or indifferent, you are the only person responsible for your choices. You don't get to blame someone else.
So make your choices and then own them. If you harm someone, own that too and make it right. If your choices cause good in another person's life, you get to feel good about that too.
We each owe a death in the end and whether you believe you will stand before God or just turn to dust, all you have left behind is the choices that you made and the lives that you either helped or harmed. How will you be remembered?

Getting Naked

It's not what you think. Getting naked. It's more like being willing to admit something that too many people are ashamed of. Having OCD.
OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder) is just a part of my day. I laugh about it but it can sometimes be annoying. I do know people who are so completely serious about the fact that they have OCD that you can't even crack a grin about having it yourself around them without them being offended. I have actually been lectured by another person with OCD because she felt that I do not take it seriously enough and she found nothing funny about it. I told her to take a chill pill. She doesn't speak to me anymore. If you know me, you know that cracks me up. It reminds me of The Joker, "Why-so-serious?"
OCD is a serious disorder for many people and there are medications (aren't there always?) to help control the symptoms but I just let it fly. I understand why I am obsessive compulsive. I remember when it started. It was during my 'childhood' when counting was the only semblance of control that I had. I counted everything; cars that we passed, brick buildings, the tips of my fingers over and over and over again, leaves on flower stems. After a while, it became important to me to know the number. Always. How many leaves did that flower stem have? How many times could I count my finger tips in an hour? I realized all by myself when I was twelve that counting wasn't helpful. It did not stop the bad things from happening to me so I only had a false sense of control. That realization led me to do something more productive with that impulse. Reading became my compulsion. I read everything; books, labels, magazines, signs and now the internet! And so my OCD evolved again. Research. I love it and I'm good at it. I have a question, I can find the answer in about a minute. That helps me in my day to day writing but the big deal for me is that I get to learn something new, which I absolutely love!
OCD for me is all about control, even though I am aware that I have none when it comes to the big scheme of things. As I said, it can get annoying. For example, laying in bed at night, toasty warm and ready to fall asleep and my brain whispers, 'Are you absolutely certain that you checked every lock in the house?' I answer myself, "yes." But my brain says, "Are you really sure you didn't miss one? While you're thinking about it, are you certain that every knob on the stove is in the off position?" CRAP! Up I get to check everything for the THIRD time. Never fails. If I don't, I will not sleep. That is all out of a need to keep my family safe. I was not safe as a child and I am compulsive in the extreme about keeping my family safe. So compulsive, that when I learned to shoot, I practiced until I became proficient at one shot, one kill, for two reasons; I hunt and do not want an animal to suffer and two....well, break into my house and find out.
I am compulsive about cleaning. I appreciate the things that we have and want to take care of them but I am also germaphobic and if the house gets cluttered, claustrophobic. My husband appreciates that he lives in a clean environment, the kids, not so much. It's not a museum in here but I am constantly wiping down a surface and disinfecting, both because I have a compromised immune system due to fibro and because I do not want my family getting sick. Here is where that compulsion gets in the way, I can spend the entire day meticulously cleaning just one room and get absolutely nothing else started, much less finished. Then I beat myself up (major anxiety) for not having better time management skills and for not having done the whole  house. On the upside, that room is done and I can move on to the next in a day or two.
I know that for many people OCD is debilitating and medication is required, but for me, though annoying at times, I am aware of it and I have found that I can help it evolve into something productive. Maybe someday I will overcome it, maybe not but it is part of who I am and more often than not, I find it amusing that I'm so anal.
You don't have to hide it if you have OCD and you sure don't have to be so serious about it that you can't laugh at yourself. Sure, there is a stigma but really, who cares? There is a stigma or a label for everything. You don't have to worry about what others think of you. You only have to get to know you well enough to like you and.....if you have a sense of humor, be able to laugh at you. We're all a little cracked and fractured and that's all right because we're all human. One of my favorite quotes (and I don't even remember who said it) is, 'God bless the cracked pots, for it is they who let in the light.' Don't hide you in the dark. Now if you will excuse me, it's time to check the locks.

It's A Beautiful Day In The Neighborhood....

Today has been slow body wise but full mentally. I have done all of the things that need to be done in order to get my body moving. I even forced myself to eat a small breakfast. I am not a breakfast person. I never have been, so it is a fairly big accomplishment to actually eat in the morning.
I am trying to put the weight back on that I lost during the last flair. I officially weigh one hundred and get that girl a cheeseburger so putting the weight back on in a healthy way is one of my short term goals.
I have done my morning stretching and have made certain to stay moving for thirty minutes at a time several times today. If you have Fibromyalgia, CMP or any chronic illness, I recommend heading over to facebook and getting to know my friend Tanya at The Fibromyalgia Five Minute Fitness Challenge. The goal is to start out small and move for five minutes a day. Nothing strenuous, just move. Walking, stretching...whatever you can do and add another minute as you feel you are ready. Some people can only start off with three minutes and work up to five. The point is, with chronic pain, you must move in order to begin to get some of the pain under control. We hold each other accountable to move and the encouragement is second to none. Many people are helped by her page. I often think of Tanya when I just hurt too much to want  to move and then I start moving.
Other than eating a healthy breakfast and getting in some exercise, I have been writing. I have been assigned thirteen articles and I can choose to write them or not. I can choose to write a few or write articles that I come up with on my own and submit for approval.
I can't say I am too pleased with the articles that I have been assigned. I mean, it's money so sure I'll write them but they are all fluff pieces to divert the reader's attention from the important things that are happening in our world and though I do not feel the pieces are beneath me, they are booooorrrring. I could care less who is dating whom and which celebrity is divorcing or who is wearing what and I have absolutely NO interest in writing pieces on refinancing your mortgage in these tough economic time. Yes, I can do the research and write them, and I have been, but it feels like it is sucking the intelligence out of my brain.
I have decided to write what I know and submit it for approval as well as the fluffy bunnies. Yes, we need the money but I am also considering the fact that these articles make up part of my portfolio and who can take you seriously if you are only writing mind numbing fluff?
I know a lot about a little and a little about a lot and the rest I'll have fun researching. I enjoy the research. I get to learn something new and to my mind, that's the coolest thing I can do. That and replace the cells that the bunnies have murdered.
I am thankful to get a paycheck for doing something that I love to do. It's only work when I dislike what I am writing. So I'll keep those to a minimum.
We all have something in our lives, maybe more than one something, that we really love to do. If you can take that talent and turn it into a paycheck, I strongly encourage you to do so. My Grandpa used to say, "If you love what you do, you will never work a day in your life." I agree. If what you do for a paycheck brings you joy, do it! I'm going to go finish up for the day. Today has been a good day!

Quantity vs. Quality

I have been neglecting my blog. There are many reasons for it. Life sometimes gets in the way of the next blog post. I had put together several small articles about healthy eating and gentle exercise before I realized that there is so much information out there that there is really no one way that is right for everyone. I know what is right for me and some of what is right for me is helpful to others but there are so many factors that make up a person's over all health that in the end, all I can really tell you is how I do it. To do otherwise would be narcissistic. So, I think a better approach would just be to let you in on my day to day routine and what I do to manage my health.
I am in the process of climbing back up from a down hill slide with my health. Having Fibromyalgia and CMP is getting on my last nerve! I can be just fine one day and than have the worst flare of my life for the next thirteen, which is what I am fighting to come out of now.
This latest flare has taught me that even if you think that you are doing everything right; eating healthy, exercising, getting enough sleep, staying hydrated, etc. If you have a chronic illness, you have to take the unexpected in stride. Now, let's be honest, saying that and doing it are two different things.
I have a fighter mentality when it comes to my chronic pain and just about everything else. For years I have told myself, 'Just fight a little harder. Get back up!' But recently, I decided to not to.
I'm beginning to think that I have been going about this all wrong. The constant fight is exhausting. I have been so focused on getting well that I am using energy that could be better utilized elsewhere. Quantity of life is nothing without quality of life. If I am only focusing on beating back the pain then I have no time for the things that I love to do but have stopped doing in order to focus on the fight. I am not taking off my gloves but I am going to let my guard down and just go with the flow.
That is something that many of us with chronic illness never learn to do. People either spend their whole lives focused solely on the fight or they give up completely. Many of us never find the happy medium. That in between place where we can not only take care of ourselves but enjoy the life we have been given as well.
Going with the flow for me means that I understand that I have only a small amount of control over these diseases. I can control how I take care of myself. I can control how much exercise I do, the foods I eat, how often I sleep but I can not control when a flare is going to blindside me or how fast scar tissue will build and cause a problem. Rather than putting all of my energy into trying to prevent the next flare from taking me off my feet, I will just continue my daily routine but with a twist. I am going to start doing all of the things that I love to do but have been putting off until I am well. Quality of life.
Yeah, you read that right; I did say until I am well. I'm not giving up the chance of remission. Even if it's only for a little while, but as I am working toward that, I'm going to cut myself some slack and enjoy the little things; art, writing, my family and pets, my friends. It doesn't matter if I can't walk one day or hold a coffee cup the next. I can't stop that from happening but I can stop wearing myself out by fighting my body every day.
When the mind is calm and happy and the spirit is calm and happy, I'm thinking the body will be too. I'm going to find out. I'll keep you posted.

The Pain Payment

Yes, yes, yes, I am STILL working on the nutrition series. I want to get it right. It's useless if it's not as complete a picture as I can give you in such a short space, which is why it has to be a small series. While I am working on that, life keeps marching on and I have a family to take care of and two children to get ready for college this fall.
I went to my daughter's summer welcome at her new college this past Tuesday. I did not want to go but it was a required event. One that I was also required to pay for. Gotta love the nickel and dime stuff!
I knew it was going to be a very hard day on me fibro wise. It was ninety-five degrees outside and I may as well have been drinking my oxygen, as humid as it was. The campus is three miles wide and we crossed it four times. We had to check in by seven thirty in the morning which meant we had to be on the road by six a.m. and the day was scheduled to end at four thirty p.m. NINE whole hours in the blazing sun, crazy humidity and walking, walking, walking. Psshh!
Everyone was sweating and cranky and the crowd was like a herd of cattle rushing toward water every time we were taken inside of a new building to explore. They knew those building were air conditioned and there was actual pushing and shoving amongst adults to be one of the first inside. My skin is sensitive. I can not take the pushing and shoving.
When we were seated in an auditorium to listen to speech after speech, the large amount of people caused the room temperature to rise. That, along with feeling crowded, I started to feel panic. I texted my husband, who is a man of few words - not much help there. So I texted my best friend who told me to go to a safe place in my head and breathe deeply. I was taking her advice. Starting to calm down, when a woman decided to stand over me to talk to someone behind me and COUGHED ON MY HEAD! That was it. I was outta there in a hurry! I am a germaphobe. I'm the first to admit it. But there is a reason for it. My immune system is in a constant battle with my body (I think they just enjoy the fight ;) If some incredibly rude person introduces a whole new germ to my very dysfunctional immune system, I will be down for weeks and I know it. So I ran.
When I finally did rejoin the group at lunch (which I had paid for in advance) the lady beside me decided to not only cough in my direction but to blow her nose into the linen napkin and set it on my side. I left.
I walked the campus for a  while and then found an air conditioned building where I sat and wrote another chapter for my book while I waited for my daughter. I made it until two thirty but by then, my feet were so swollen I had to drive home barefoot.
Now, I knew I would owe the fibro fairy for getting out in the hot, humid weather and walking too many miles and I had hoped that I would only owe her one day but apparently - she's pissed! I paid yesterday and even with a sleeping pill (which I rarely take) she refused to allow the Sandman to visit me last night. So now we know what happens today, don't we. That's not a question. I'm all ready in twice the amount of pain that I was in yesterday.
That is the biggest thing that I have never understood about fibromyalgia. Now, I know I have CMP too and that greatly contributes to my pain, but why is it this disease punishes its' host for doing something that would normally be good for you? I know the science behind it but today it just strikes me as stooooopid! I can clearly see that I owe the fibro fairy much more than I thought. It's beginning to look like the rest of this week is shot. I'll finish making my payments because I always pay in full and then I will get back to business. I love ya'll! Be nice to you!

Discrimination Sucks!

Most of us have been discriminated against for one reason or another. Maybe we are over weight or under weight. Perhaps we have frizzy hair or short hair or a color that someone decides they don't like. Maybe we are female in a male dominated career or male in a female dominated career. Perhaps you love someone of the same sex or feel that you were born in the wrong body and others refuse to try to put themselves in your shoes.
Or maybe, just maybe you have a chronic, debilitating disease that leaves you screaming on the inside while looking perfectly normal on the outside. I have heard it all...'You look fine.'  'You don't seem sick.' I have been called everything from a drama queen to a hypochondriac to a flat out liar when it comes to my chronic pain. I have had doctors ask me if I wanted pain pills, all most as though they were testing me; ready to label me a drug seeker until they later found out that they had prejudged me. I have had family members gossip about me, saying that I'm not really in pain, I'm just lazy.
As a person with a chronic illness that isn't prominently displayed on the outside, we get to face all manner of criticism and have rumors spread about us. How do you deal with that?
I have heard so many of my fellow fm friends cry because someone that they loved called them any number of vile things and let them know that they did not even believe they were ill. It is such a hurtful thing to have those that you love not believe you much less educate themselves about your disease.
For me personally, I start by explaining the quick version of what is happening to me. If they are interested, I go more in depth, but if they aren't, I leave it at that. Some people get irritated that I don't hang out with them as much anymore but I have explained until I'm blue in the face. I'm finished explaining. I now feel like, if they didn't listen the first fifty times that I explained, they aren't going to listen the fifty first time either. I'm not going to waste my breathe anymore.
I became so tired of trying to squash the rumors and explain myself that I finally realized that by worrying about what other people thought and said about me, I was actually throwing myself into flares. I was allowing the opinions of people who were willfully ignorant to affect me in the worst possible way. So I stopped. Those who talk badly about me, I walked away from. Those who refused to try to understand why I can't always just jump in the car and go, also ended up in my rear view.
I basically purged my life of all of the friction. I had done my best to educate those people. I had done my best to be patient and kind but there came a point when I had to be more selfish and do what was best for me. I have to admit, I am soooo much happier and more relaxed without all of that drama surrounding me.
I do not advocate kicking loved ones out of your life unless they are causing you to be absolutely miserable. Everyone has the right to handle these situations in a way that is best for them. My whole point is, you do not have to tolerate discrimination. You don't deserve it. What you do deserve is a life full of peace and happiness and those moments of pure joy. I believe that you actually have a right to those things without someone stepping in and ruining it for you. I know that most of you have faced discrimination and I am so sorry that happened to you. Those people have no idea of the strength that you posses. You have to have a deep well spring of strength just to get through each day with chronic pain.
I know that some of you feel alone. Guess what? You aren't. I am in your corner and there are countless others of us cheering you on. You are NOT your disease. You are strength and beauty undeniable. That is my two cents for today. Be nice to you!

Fibromyalgia, CMP and Me

Today has not been the greatest on record so far. Thunderstorms and pain plus three kids out for the summer and trying to get two of them ready to go to college equals one very cranky, tired Mama.
Before I continue, I want you to know that if you want to, you can leave comments at the end of each post. I would like to get to know you. I wonder who reads this blog. I also wonder if it is helpful to anyone.
I am nobody special. Unique, probably. Out spoken, definitely. But I don't fancy myself some disease related guru or legend in my own mind. I am just a woman who was born with a disease that affects my life way more than I would like. I am other things too though; I am a wife of 20 years to man whom I both adore and want to smack depending on what comes out of his mouth. :) I am a Mother to three not so small children; two of which are heading off to college in the fall. Life would be far less funny without those little gremlins. Them, I always adore! I am a friend to some of the strongest women I have ever known. I am in awe of them. The way that they conquer each day with the amount of pain they are in leaves me humbled on a regular basis. I am an artist and a writer who never feels that her work is good enough even though others gush over it. I am a animal lover and a gardener and I have a heart for the children who show up at my house broken and lost because maybe their parents didn't want to be parents. I do all that I can to help them because I know just how it feels to be them.
I was born with fibromyalgia but for years I did not know that it what it was. I hurt, it seemed like all of the time as a child but I was abused and attributed the pain to the constant beatings. Who wouldn't? My Grandmother had Fibro, my Mother has fibro, my Aunt has fibro. I pray often that I did not pass it to one of my children, though I'm starting to become more and more suspicious of one of them. She complains that her legs hurt at night. It's agony for her after a day of running and playing on the trampoline -'Mine always did too when I was little.' Her arms and back ache - 'oh, no!'. Her clothes hurt her skin -'Please God, don't let this happen to her. She's just a baby!' I'm terrified for her.
By the time I was 25, I was certain that I had arthritis. Between my childhood and my work in health care, lifting people, turning people, bathing- and once a man that weighed 300 pounds more than me fell on me and it took a year to heal from that damage. I knew you couldn't do much for arthritis so I went about my merry way, taking lots of Tylenol over the years until I was 28 and the pain literally dropped me one day.
We had an apricot tree outside of our fence that was just loaded and I wanted to make jam so I grabbed a basket and went out to pick a bunch of them. The basket was too heavy to carry all the way back around the fence so I put it over the fence in the backyard and started walking up the sidewalk to get to the front gate. I felt great until I got to the corner of the fence; it was just all of the sudden. No warning. Pain hit my entire body and took me down. I grabbed at the fence to try to hold myself up but my arms were not going to support me. I sat on that sidewalk for about 40 minutes before I had the strength to crawl to a handhold and use the fence to pull myself up. I leaned on that fence for support until I made it inside the yard and then crawled on hands and knees to the front door. I had NO IDEA what was happening but I was TERRIFIED! I called my husband at work and he took me to the E.R. but they found nothing wrong. They just gave me some pain meds, told me to follow up with my family doctor and send me home.
I was constantly nervous until I got in to see my doctor. So afraid it would happen again. He sent me for blood work and that's when the tests began. Months of tests. CT scan, MRI, tests for Lyme disease and Lupus and STD's...I thought it would never end. Every test came back negative. That is when my doctor did a pressure point test and asked me 20 minutes worth of questions and said, 'You have fibromyalgia.' Okay, so now we know what it is, we can cure it. I was that naïve. Back then, I thought if it wasn't one of the incurables like AIDS, then if it had a name, it had a cure. My doc gave me more pain medicine and told me I needed a rheumatologist and sent me home.
I am a researcher so I looked fibromyalgia up online. The more I read, the more I said 'um...no! I do NOT have something incurable! He just made a mistake.' So I got copies of all of my medical records and set out to find a doctor who would tell me this was not fibro, it was something curable. No big deal.
11 doctors. Yup! I was determined! 11 doctors told me I had fibro. I took the pain meds until my family decided that if I took pain meds I would end up being a junkie someday (Never listen to people who do not understand what is wrong with you!) and then for the next 11 years, I did my best to ignore the pain. What I did not know was that I also had cmp and left untreated, it progresses. It too is incurable but I left it untreated because I decided I was done with doctors and it worsened my fibro as it progressed.
I finally decided I had had enough and found a team of medical professionals to help me. I have tried every new drug out there and all most died a couple of different times from allergic reactions. I was sent to pain management as a last resort and it has been the best thing for me. I have a cardiologist (because I had a heart attack at 36. I didn't know that my body quickly converts processed sugars into arterial plaque), I also have a chiropractor, a GP and a Pain management doctor and they all work together. I love that about them! My PM doctor insisted that I join a gym and swim in the salt water pool. Something in the saline helps the muscles and I do feel better after a swim. I have lost 50 pounds. I stretch and eat healthy - something I had to seriously educate myself on. Overall I am much better today. I still hurt but I can function. I am having more good days than bad.
I keep encouraging people to treat your whole body. Chronic pain is not just in your muscles, it's all over. It even gets in your head. We need hydration, fruits and veggies, protein, whole grains but we also need sleep (something hard to come by for many of us), we need gentle exercise so we don't get stiff and sore as often and we need our friends and families to understand. I know not everyone wants to bother to understand so I stay away from those people. The negativity does me no good. I have met some amazing people with these diseases. Strong, determined people who I am proud to call my friends. You are not your disease. You are an amazing person who just happens to have a disease.
Now, I need a nap :) Sweet dreams, ya'll!

Things In The Dark

You know, I am hesitant to write what I know I must tonight. My research didn't take me where I had hoped it would. Those who know me know that when I research something, I do not stop until there is nothing left to find. I want the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth so help me God.
I thought, 'Hey, I think I'll research the four most common drugs used to treat fibro and let people know what they are good for.'
Doing the research was like walking into a dark cave, moving further and further from the light, listening to scaly things scratch the walls and feeling their hot breath on my neck right up until the floor disappeared and I was free falling in the cold blackness seeing the truth flash in my mind while listening to maniacal laughter. That is my uber dramatic way of saying that what I found scared the crap out of me.
I fully realize that this post is going to make some people mad. Try to keep in mind that I did not create the drugs or write the reports. I did the research that is out there for you to find too if you are so inclined. I hope that you are. Please don't just take my word for it. Go do the research for yourself especially if you are on one of these drugs. Reading the information for yourself will empower you and set you on the road to finding less toxic drugs to treat your chronic pain.
I'm going to start with Neurontin. Neurontin (Gabpentin) was FDA approved for nerve pain and seizure disorders. Nothing else. Ever. When fibromyalgia was taken off the orphan disease list (orphaned because not enough people had been diagnosed to make the disease profitable), Pfizer saw an opportunity to market it's newest drug, Neurontin as a treatment. This was never FDA approved and Pfizer was slapped with a fine for prescribing this medicine for off label uses. THEY PAID THE FINE. You see? Pay the fine and the drug doesn't get pulled from the market.
In December 2004, Neurontin's patent ran out which meant that Pfizers competitors could market a generic version. Now, by then, Neurontin had not only been shown ineffective after a three month period in fibro, but 14% of users had committed suicide. It didn't matter now because Pfizer had come out with Neurontins' successor LYRICA. Lyrica also began life as an anti-seizure drug. It was never meant to treat fibromyalgia. The side effects run from dizziness to death and about 30 side effects in between but once again, Pfizer prescribed this new drug for off label use (fibromyalgia and diabetic neuropathy). Whistleblowers went to the Department of Justice because patients once again, began dying. Pfizer signed a Corporate Integrity Agreement with the DOJ and paid the $2.3 Billion dollar fine and continued on their merry way, marketing Lyrica to FM patients. Lyrica is currently Pfizers biggest seller, bringing in over $3 Billion a year. Lyricas' patent runs out at the end of 2013. Expect Pfizer to come out with a new fibro drug.
Savella was FDA approved for fibromyalgia treatment on January 14, 2009. It was among the first fibromyalgia specific drugs (currently there are two) to hit the market. Europe approved the drug as an anti-depressant but refused to allow it to be used in fibromyalgia patients, claiming that the marginal benefits were far outweighed by the harm that the drug causes. As of January 20, 2013 in the U.S. a group of patients called The Public Citizen had filed a petition with the FDA to recall the drug along with a class action law suit claiming that Savella had caused irreparable damage in surviving patients and the deaths of loved ones. Both the outcome of the petition for recall and the law suit are still pending.  Savella helped marginally with fibro pain for three months but had a list of more than 40 side effects, the worst being that a full 20% of people taking Savella had sudden heart attacks and strokes, half of those resulting in sudden death. Even the FDA claims that aside from the side effects, more than 90% of users receive no benefit from the drug.
Cymbalta - As early as 1990, the FDA had received numerous reports that the drug caused suicidal thoughts in patients aged 18-25. Later, it was discovered that there is a statistically significant greater risk of death in those who had coronary artery disease while also using Cymbalta. Patients with CAD who remained on the drug for three years died at a rate of 21.4%. That's a huge number! Cymbalta was also shown to increase liver disease and liver failure. As a result, the FDA put the strongest warning that they have at their disposal on ALL of these drugs. The Black Box warning. A Black Box warning means that while the drug can still be sold, you take it at your own peril.
To be completely fair in my research, I also looked up the medication that I am prescribed through pain management. I found warnings that included; do not take this drug if you have more than one alcoholic drink per day. I also found many instances where patients did not follow dosing schedules and took large amounts of the drug to get high (some took as much as 70mg!) but even then, with stomach pumping and antidotal medications, those people did not die, though they did suffer liver damage due to the acetaminophen overdose.
I will not tell you what you can and can not take for your chronic pain. I am not here to judge anyone for what helps them and what doesn't. I do, however, want to encourage you to research this for yourself. All drugs are toxic to the body over time. These just happen to be even more toxic than others. When fibromyalgia came off the orphan list, there was a rush by the pharmaceutical companies to cash in even though they had not studied this disease enough to be able to treat it effectively. It was money first, patients later and it still is. There are legitimate scientists who have not jumped on the money train yet who are trying to unravel this disease. Help is coming. But for now, for me personally, I go old school with the tried and true drugs plus a healthy eating plan, exercise and time for me.
There is a book that I highly recommend for the newly diagnosed. Fibromyalgia and Chronic Myofascial Pain A Survival Manual by Devin Starlanyl and Mary Ellen Copeland. You can get it on both Amazon and ebay. It is chock full of symptoms and what to do for them by people who have fibro too. It has been especially helpful to me since I have both fibro and cmp.
I beg people to research everything their doctor says, every drug prescribed and the diseases they have been diagnosed with. I was pretty upset that this post didn't go the way I had hoped but I won't lie to you either. There are ways to handle this disease without harming ourselves further. I'm wishing you a pain free day. Now that I bummed out, I'm going to go look at grumpy cat pics for a while. I need something good to pull me back up.

I'm World Wide, Baby!

I just took a look at my audience and my blog is being read in the United States, the U.K., Germany and now China! Thank you! I am both surprised and honored that you actually want to read my little blog. :)
I was talking to my husband tonight about the pitfalls that those who are newly diagnosed with fibromyalgia face. I have been doing my best to help those people pick their way through the maze of doctors and tests and management and the emotional toll that being diagnosed with a incurable disease takes.
Fibromyalgia is both a giver and a taker. It takes your good health and gives you levels of pain that you never thought possible. It takes your freedom of movement and gives you stiff, painful muscles. It takes your self esteem and gives you fear, panic and depression. It takes away the people who you thought were friends because they lack understanding but it will give you people who do understand and truly care for you.
Chronic illness is understandably viewed as an enemy but I believe it can also be viewed as a friend. It can tear down the illusion of who you thought you were and show you who you really are inside. It can show you just how strong you really are and can help you to grow emotionally and, if you let it, physically stronger.
In my own experience, I have found that having a chronic pain illness has made me a stronger person. I will not let these diseases beat me down. I am not ready to give up on life. I will always get back up after a bad flare. Where I used to feel insecure in who I was, concerned about what other people thought of me, I have found that I no longer worry what anyone thinks of me. They don't live my life, nor do they face my challenges and in the end, I am the only person who will have to answer for my life. So what do I care what they think?
I have educated myself about my illnesses and I am able to have honest conversations with my doctors in 'their own language' (medical terminology) and while I have encountered doctors who are surprised and even a little bothered by my knowledge of my own body, others appreciate that I am able to communicate with them in a clear, concise manner. I like those guys!
I have lost people who I thought were friends because they didn't want to understand but I have gained a whole host of friends who not only understand, but care about me and do not define me by my illness.
You can allow chronic illness to knock you down and you can stay down. I have seen it happen much too often. People who, rather than fight back, languish in their beds or on their couches, gaining weight and feeling sorry for themselves, their favorite thing to say is "I can't". Just laying there, day after day, watching life pass them by while becoming more and more apathetic.
I chose another path. I have been knocked down but I get back up. I refuse to give into depression over the things that I can no longer do. I would rather focus on the things that I can do and then find new things to add to that list. I have days when I have to take it easy and lay down but I never allow myself to stay down for more than one day. I get up and stretch. I take a walk.
I do not want anyone to think that I have a problem with those who are over weight. I used to be over weight. I found that the pain was worse while I was over weight because my body had to work harder to support that weight, So I lost fifty pounds. It took a while but I did it. I educated myself about proper nutrition. I found the better the food that I put in my body, the better I feel.
The more that we can do to give our bodies the ammunition to fight back, the better our quality of life. It is so important to educate yourself on your illness. Keep up with the latest research, learn what exercise you can do without hurting yourself, learn about nutrition and how to read labels. Chronic illness is a whole body problem. The whole body must be treated. Including the spirit. Take time for you each day. It doesn't matter if it is prayer, meditation, yoga or just sitting quietly looking out of a window. 'You time' matters in your health program.
I go on a few different fibromyalgia facebook pages and offer advice to the newly diagnosed. I am no expert but I am more experienced than I would like to be. The thing that truly troubles me is the sheer volume of newly diagnosed people. What is happening? I have a pretty good idea and I will write about it in my next post but for now my point is, these people are scared. It breaks my heart so I do my best to help. I get a benefit from offering help too. When I help someone or compliment a total stranger (something that I make a point of doing every time I leave our home), I get a rush of endorphins because it makes me happy to help. Those endorphins also drive down my pain levels. Try doing something good for another person and see how you feel. Especially if you are having a particularly painful day and watch your pain levels drop.
That's my advice for now. I hope you all have a pain free day and THANK YOU for reading my little blog!

Can you imagine?

I am an artist. I always have been. But I am a timid artist. Showing my art to people is equivalent to peeling open my chest and baring my soul for all the world to see. That has always been the scary part of art to me. The vulnerability.
I tend to show my pieces to only a few of my very close friends. People with whom I know will not poke their grubby little fingers inside my chest and pick apart my soul. Those same people gush about my art and encourage me to sell my work. I want to but the timid part of me says, "No. what if....."
When it comes to my writing, I have shared my work with only two people; my husband, because I am safe with him and my son, because he will not only be brutally honest with me but is an artist himself.
I have met another artist who has taken a warm rag and begun washing the crust from my eyes so that I can open them and see my world for what it is. A tiny, dank, self imposed prison of timidness with strict rules that govern my days to give myself routine. I like routine. Routine gives me discipline and a sense of purpose. It also gives me some semblance of control over my fibromyalgia and CMP.
Not today! Today is a new day. I have begun reading a book that my new friend told me about - her name is Tanya, by the way. I am going to ask her if I may link her blog to mine so that you might get to know her too.
After reading part of the book that Tanya told me about, I can see how restrictive I am with myself. I had stopped writing for all of the wrong reasons - and I love to write. It is my happy place. I have been denying myself that which brings me joy because others might pick apart that most vulnerable part of me. But now I see, who cares what they think of my writing? If it brings me joy and maybe a few other people someday, does it really matter what my critics think? Now is the time to tune out my very worst critic too. That voice in my head that whispers, "You are not good enough. What do you know anyway?" I did just that this morning.
Today I dove headlong back into that deep ocean that is my imagination and I wrote. Then I wrote some more. I wrote so joyously for so long, I lost track of time and forgot that writing again or not, there is still a schedule to keep with my body. I wrote right through eating breakfast and lunch and taking my medicine and doing my stretching exercises. I'm all ready paying for that. I guess that I really do need a schedule in order to care for myself and my family but that schedule does not have to become a self imposed prison.
I have two friends now named Tanya. My close friend Tanya D. has been telling me to write and work on my art for a long time now. So has my friend Amalie. Now I have a new friend also named Tanya whom I believe God sent into my life just as he did Tanya D. and Amalie. I am listening. I am writing and I am rediscovering the pure joy that the act of putting pen to paper brings into my life. The 'scary mountain' that was once writing has shrunk dramatically, telling me that all I needed to do was take that first step. Put that first word on the page.
We were meant to use the gifts that we were born with. Sometimes we allow what others think or say about our gifts to stop us from developing them into something that has the power to bring us untold joy. I am guilty of that. I have decided to forgive myself and use those gifts. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a story to write.

A Letter To My Daughter

My Sweet Kiradolly,

I wanted this to look pretty with big swirls and curly Q's in my own handwriting so that you would have it to read years from now when you are looking through your scrapbooks, reliving your old memories. I wasn't completely sure what I wanted to say. I just wanted to put pen to paper to tell you how special you are to me. But I had to choose to type this instead and post it here because not only are my hands not cooperating, neither is my printer.
I have been thinking about the hands in our lives and how important they are. Then I realized how weak mine have become over the years. They used to be much stronger than they are today. Over the past 18 years, they have been through more than I ever could have imagined they could have been.
My hands held you close to me when you took your first breaths. They stroked your hair the moment you first opened your eyes. They gave you your first nourishment and your first warmth as they wrapped you in your first soft blanket.
My hands have held you through bad dreams and fevers and snugly hugs. They held you up through your first wobbly steps and learning to ride a bike. My hand held yours on your first day of school. They held you close through heartbreak, tears and lots of laughter. They have been clamped in prayer so tightly that I thought they might break, through every illness and surgery.
Mine are not the only hand that have held you up through all of these years. You have been blessed by many hands that would never see you fall. Your Daddy's hands, Nan and Pap's hands, even the hands of your brother and sister. You are blessed to have so many hands surrounding you.
Today as you graduate, you are stepping out of childhood into adulthood and our hands will be there to help you cross that line. Then my hands will have to find their greatest strength - the strength to let go. To let you take those first steps toward your life. I think that must be the hardest thing these hands have ever had to do.
As I do that, I will propel you back into the hands that placed you in mine all of those years ago. Trust His hands. Take refuge in them. They will never let you fall. Depend on them to guide you to the life that He has waiting for you.
Our hands will still be here when you need them. They will always applaud you, always help you. They may not be as strong as they used to be but they will always be strong enough to love you.
We could not be more proud of you Kiradolly. Now go see what your hands are meant to do.

I love you more than there are stars in the sky my baby.                                  Love, Mom

Craving the rose

Anne Bronte wrote; But he who dares not grasp the thorn should never crave the rose.
I have grasped many a thorn in my life. The one rose that I really want, I have not grasped because I have allowed the opinion of others and the 'what ifs' to become too thorny.
I sat down with my husband last night and listed all of the reasons that I have not picked up my writing. The very same reasons that I listed in my last post. He sat quietly listening and when I was finished, he sat there for a few minutes not saying anything. Now, I'm not sure what he was thinking in those moments but it seemed as though he was trying to choose his words carefully. I just stayed quiet because my husband is not much of a conversationalist to begin with. If he has something to say, I listen simply because he doesn't speak unless it's something he wants to be heard. Otherwise, I mostly carry on conversations with myself while he claims that he's 'just listening' while I know he's off in his own head thinking of the next job he needs to get done. Occasionally he'll nod or grunt so I'll think he's listening to me. Last night, he was listening.
When he did finally speak, the first thing he said was 'Don't get mad.' Not a good start. I told him that he could say what ever he wanted to and I would sit there quietly and listen without getting my feelings hurt. 'Good' he says, 'Sounds like a bunch of excuses to me.'  Well that surprised me.
He told me that if I allow what his Mother thinks to stop me from writing then I must have changed because he- "has seen time and again, when you decide to do something, you do it and you don't care who likes it. You just get it done." Then he said something that I did not know and made me tear up. He said, "I have always admired that about you."
He said that what ever happens once I have a manuscript or two out there, we would deal with it. Just write.
My new friend, Tanya, (now I have two friends named Tanya, both good ladies!) sent me a message this morning and in that message she said, 'Just write!'
I had read a blog post in which the author had to give herself permission to take a nap. (I want to say it was Tanya's blog but I have read so many lately and I'm dealing with fibro fog, I don't want to get that wrong.) I realized, I was waiting for someone to give me permission to use a God given talent. I was so concerned with what the repercussions would be that I put down something that I love and walked away. Not only was I waiting for my husband to say 'ignore my mother' I was waiting for ME to give myself permission to be myself! Good Lord I am a clueless dork sometimes!
I have given myself permission. I am dusting off the manuscripts and trying to decide which one to start with. I have spent the afternoon kicking around story lines and kicking some out. I am finally excited instead of nervous.
My husband is right, I have made the decision and now I will plow ahead until I am holding my book in my hands. I am off to grasp the thorns!

Hermit, yes. Antisocial, no

I have not posted in a month. I have no excuse really. I think about it but then I bury myself in research or house work and do not log in long enough to do what I am supposed to do , which is to maintain this blog. I apologize to my readers, if there are any left. I will now be held accountable for posting at least a couple of times a week. My husband has agreed to nag, ahem, remind me to keep writing. I think he is looking forward to it.
I have become a hermit by choice. My autoimmune diseases make getting out very often unpleasant. I do walk with my daughter and I enjoy it. I run errands when I absolutely have no other choice but other than that, I choose to stay at home.
Over the past several years, I have gotten to know myself very well and I like me. What I did not like, I changed and what I did like, I nurtured. That statement, by no means, is to be taken as 'she thinks she's perfect.' Not at all. But I have learned to recognize my faults and since I spend so much time alone with me, I have the time to work on those things.
Now I am going to start working on the things that I have been afraid of. I am an artist at heart and as a means of earning part of our income. Part of my creative side includes writing. I have many stories collecting dust on the shelf. Do you know why I haven't done anything with them? Fear. Plain and simple.
A good chunk of my existence was a horror story come to life so I am drawn to the mystery/horror genre. I'm good at it. I'm not even going to apologize for that last sentence and feign modesty. I am good at it.
I have allowed three people to proof read two of my manuscripts, all three had nightmares - which made me proud as punch! I do not write to frighten people. I write to conquer the fear at the end of the story. I enjoy writing if no one knows that I am doing it. Then I am just writing a story for pure enjoyment and to get it out of my head. When other people find out I am writing, it becomes a whole other animal and I don't like that beast!
My husband loves that I write. Not because he reads so much but because he sees dollar signs. That puts pressure on me to produce and takes the enjoyment right out of the process. He can't help it, I think. He has seen my work and he gets these big ideas - she's gonna sell a million books! They will turn it into a movie! - Pshh! I have explained to him that less than 1% of manuscripts go that distance. He is still hopeful. It's nice that he has confidence in me but again, sucks the fun right out of it.
Problem #2. My Mother in-law. This is a woman who has never read a word that I have written but because of the genre, she loves to tell me how writing 'those things' goes against my being a Christian and could invite spiritual things into my home that do not belong here. (If I roll my eyes any harder, they may roll out of my head!) Point is, it causes me to feel as though I should write under an alias so she won't know what I'm doing, rather than write under my own name, which I happen to be proud of. It's a conundrum. She's a busy body and IF I am published under my own name, I'll never hear the end of it.
Problem #3 - Fear of success. I let a new friend know earlier today that I have this problem. I thought it might be a fear of failure. But no. I can handle that. If I am successful, that has the potential to open a can of worms too. I'm not talking fame and fortune. I'm talking about people that I dislike suddenly wanting to be my best friend. If I am a success, that will happen. Count on it.
Problem #4 - Getting over problems 1 - 3 and doing what I love for me. That is what I am working on now. It's a process. Over coming fear is a hill to climb but I am ready to climb it.
Because I am a self imposed hermit, some people believe that I am antisocial. Not true. I am very social. Online. I do not think that I have to be in your presence to let you know that you are someone that I care for and am interested in. When I have the rare day that straying too far from home isn't going to cause major discomfort, I'm happy to go visit my friends. Otherwise, I do most of my socializing online. Like now, for instance. I am talking to you. No, we are not face to face but I am talking to you and I want you to know that I care about you. Who ever you are, where ever you are, you are an important person. Not because you are reading this blog but because you are a human being who deserves good things. It's just that simple.
Many of my friends are in the same boat that I am in with different life altering ailments. Some of my friends have fibro, others MS, others are diabetic or have epilepsy and we have all learned that spending time with ourselves isn't such a bad thing after all. And that is the beauty of the internet and writing. Without these two things, most of us would never have met and we could be desperately alone right now. I believe everything happens for a reason. Now I have good friends who, like me, are not going to let their illnesses beat them. I keep seeing how blessed I am. :)
So, back to problems 1 - 3, it's time for me to figure this out. Suggestions would be appreciated.
I love ya'll! Have a great night!

Learning To Duck

This past month I was thrown another curve ball. You'd think I'd learn to duck once in a while. This one came from left field and I didn't see it coming. I didn't even expect it. So it knocked me down and I decided to stay there for a while. By myself. I didn't want my friends around. Obviously I can't escape my husband but I haven't said anything to our children and I don't intend to.
Sometimes, when you get knocked off your feet, it feels good to just lay there for a while looking up at the sky and saying 'Enough. I'm done.' That is exactly what I have been doing. Just hanging around in the dirt, wanting to be left alone while I feel sorry for myself.
A few weeks ago, my doctor told me that my cmp has progressed faster than he thought it would. There is nothing that can be done about it. There is no treatment because myofascia has it's own nervous system and it is not fully understood but what is understood is that when the damage is severe enough, it not only does not heal but when you add fibro to it - with fibro doing it's daily damage - the myofascia damage spreads. It is spreading faster than we thought it would and he said something to me that turned out to be a fast curve from left field. 'You may as well get used to the idea that you are disabled and it will only progress as you get older.' BAM! He said I am disabled.
Other people have said that word to me before and I politely ignored them because I AM NOT DAMNIT! But when my doctor, who has been a great doctor to me, said that word and used it in a way that he was trying to convey to me that it is time to accept the inevitable, well, I like looking up at the sky for now.
At first, I felt sorry for myself. I know there are a lot of things that I could do a year ago but no longer have the strength to do but I am determined to regain that strength if I have to spend two hours a day in the gym. I am only 40 years old for crying out loud!
Then I got angry and started looking for someone to blame. I took a hell of a lot of beatings as a child and that is what damaged my myofascia in the first place. The Fibro was passed down the line from my Grandmother to my Mother to me and I pray often that I did not pass it to my daughters.
It wasn't long before I realized that I can't change the past and this is just something I have to face now, so I decided to face it alone. I didn't want my friends pitying me or telling me it would all be ok because I hate pity and it is not going to be ok. I am not ok with it at all.
I am now at a place of tenuous acceptance. I accept that I have these two autoimmune diseases. I accept that there is no conventional cure. I do not accept that there is nothing I can do about it and I do not accept that I am disabled. There are still plenty of things that I can do and I will do whatever it takes to regain some of what I have lost.
First I need to get my happy back. I need to start doing the things that I love again, so tomorrow I'm going to do just that. Mostly though, I have to get rid of this anger. I am still angry that my Mothers' poor choices in husbands has had life long effects for me. It can't be changed, I know, but it still makes me angry and that makes me hard to be around right now. I don't like how I have been feeling. It's toxic and it has to stop. Enough is enough.
I guess sometimes, your past really does come back to bite you. You just have to learn to let it go and that is the hard part. I think it's time to open the door and let the people I love back in instead of pushing them away. Maybe we are not meant to deal with the really hard stuff all alone.
Tomorrow, I'm closing the door to the anger and self pity and opening it to happiness and forgiveness. Maybe that is how we  learn to duck those curve balls. Through the joy of those that God has placed in our lives. The sky is pretty but the ground is too hard to stay down for too long.

The Fibro Fairy and I Don't Get Along

I have been asked many times what it is like to have fibromyalgia. I have lots of analogies to help people understand in a nutshell but it's different for everyone. I think you first have to understand the very basics about the disease.
Fibromyalgia is an autoimmune disease that lives in your spinal fluid. Living there gives it access to you entire nerve network as well as your muscles and your immune system. It's also a bully. It never shows up alone. It always brings a friend. For some it's IBS. For others it's migraine or another autoimmune disease. It actually has around 90 different friends it can team up with to kick your butt on a daily basis. With me, it brought cmp - chronic myofascial pain. CMP is a tough opponent all by itself and in my case I think I was diagnosed backward. CMP is not an immune response initially. CMP comes from repeated physical trauma. Fibromyalgia is hereditary, passed from Mother to child. Usually Mother to daughter.
Now, don't go thinking my husband beats me. He doesn't. My childhood was a slow walk through a special part of hell and I was badly injured while working in a nursing home in my early 20's. CMP and Fibro work hand in hand to knock me down daily. They didn't realize how stubborn I am. I keep getting back up.
This past winter the getting up has been harder. Pain with fibro varies from being stabbed all over with an ice pick to intense muscle spasms that stop you in your tracks to feeling like someone poured a layer of gasoline in the space between your muscles and skin, all over your entire body and then lit it on fire.
The longer it goes uncontrolled, the more hyper-sensitive to pain you become. The other day, I very lightly stubbed my pinkie toe. It should not have hurt at all but it dropped me. Pain shot straight up my leg, into my stomach making me nauseous and I just sat on the floor clenching my teeth until it passed. It really made me mad because that just should not have hurt at all! I often think it's stupid to hurt this badly. I bruise easily, which irritates my husband because he knows that each bruise was agony initially and I didn't tell him about it and let him hug me like a child. It's a really irritating disease.
Those of us with chronic pain have become experts in medications and nutrition. It becomes a quest to find ways to drastically minimize the effects so we can live semi-normal lives. I have become a clean eating proponent because I know how much it helps me. I refuse the new medications because they are dangerous. I go old school. But sometimes, like tonight, it doesn't matter what medications you have in your arsenal or how well you are eating or exercising, sometimes your the windshield. Tonight I'm the bug. No sleep for me. The pain is too great. Sleep is a battle with fibro anyway. I can not fall asleep without help. No sleep means no R.E.M.  No R.E.M. sleep means no healing from today's assault on my body which means tomorrows assault will have a cumulative effect and the pain will be worse and then I will hurt too much to sleep tomorrow night and the cycle will continue until I finally just pass out from exhaustion. Then the worst part of it will ensue....fibrofog. I HATE fibrofog. That is when you can not remember what you were supposed to be doing, where you put your coffee cup (knowing you just set it down), feeling like you are sleep walking through your day. My family often tells me that I will tell them the same thing two or three times a day during fibrofog. Well, that's because something important popped into my head that you needed to know and I honestly don't remember telling you the last two times. And hey, if I'm saying the same thing over and over and can't remember doing it, at least you know I'm not lying to you! :)
Fibrofog and fibromyalgia mess with your short term memory. You transfer short term memories to long term memories during R.E.M. sleep. Without sleep and then add fibrofog, you lose those short term memories. I can only remember major events from my childhood and I have lost much of my children's childhoods. That is why we take so many pictures so I can trigger those memories and they won't be forever lost to me.
I am extremely fortunate in that I have a husband and children who understand what is happening to me and help without offending me. They don't treat me as an invalid. We handle it with humor and they gently guide me to help me remember things like where did I put my list of things to do today? I am a list maker. I sit down at night while my mind is clear and write down all that I need to do the next day. My big challenge is not losing that list!
Fibrofog comes and goes. It's awful during a flare, which I am currently going through. But while I may not be able to get out of bed because of pain in the morning, I know that it will subside and life will keep moving. Most of all, I know that no matter how bad the flare ups get, I am one blessed woman because I have a family who understands and loves me. My son said 'God Mom. It must suck to be you." Ummm not so much. Some things suck and I would like to punch the fibro fairy in the throat but other than that, I'm good. I consider myself to be one of the lucky ones.
Too many people with this disease are not understood even in their own households. They are left feeling desperately alone. It's an awful thing to hear about. Like I said, I am blessed. I might be in a daily battle and I might get knocked down. But by God's good grace, a loving family and the extra large dose of stubbornness that I was born with, I'll get through this and I will enjoy my life in the process.
There is a whole lot more to fibro and cmp but now you have a solid view of what daily life is like. So if you know someone with fibromyalgia or any autoimmune disease, cut them some slack. They didn't ask for this and they are doing combat every single day just to stay on their feet. They are not their disease. In fact, they are probably the strongest people you will ever meet. I know. A lot of them are my friends and I am awed by them.
If you want to know more, there is plenty on the web and I will be talking about it from time to time as it aggravates the tar out of me. But if you have questions, feel free to ask. I do not mind a bit. In the meantime, I hope you are all sound asleep! :)

The Moral Compass

I am grateful for my family. I am grateful that I have been blessed to be a Mother and raise the amazing people that my children have become. Yesterday I realized that my job is far from finished. Two of my children may be considered legal adults but they are still children. They are still naïve and have difficulty in trying to see the bigger picture rather than only focusing on what is right in front of them.
Yesterday I had to open my oldest daughter's eyes a bit wider and she didn't like it. At all. But in the end, she understood and I'm hoping she will take that lesson into the future and draw on it when it happens again. It will happen again.
It got me thinking; most of the population sees the world the way my daughter does. 'Sure bad things happen. But it isn't my fault and I can't stop it and as long as it doesn't happen in my little world, I'll be sad for the people for a whole minute and move on. That's just the way the world is.'
WRONG! When did I fail to teach her this stuff? Fail on my part! It irritated the crap out of me!
It started with her telling me how sad and unexpected Shain Gandee's death is. The star of some show called Buckwild - I actually had to Google it and read about the show and the players to understand what she was talking about. Basically, yet another reality show star gone wrong.
My daughter thought it was so very sad that this boy had died and she talked about how it was so unexpected and awful. She did not expect my reaction.
Yes it is sad. Yes it is awful. But unexpected? Nope. Should have seen it coming. And guess what? Everyone who watched that show is partially responsible for what happened to him.
We used to prize wisdom, goodness and wholesomeness. We used to promote family values and having a strong sense of right from wrong. Not anymore.
Now we tell 20 somethings that they are invincible and that if they will get sloppy drunk, use drugs, party like idiots, get D.U.I.'s, cop assault charges, have sex with random people, get pregnant and not know who the daddy is - and allow America to watch you do these things on T.V., we will not only pay you big money for it, you will be rich and famous!
Look at the cast of Jersey Shore. Look at Honey Booboo's family. Read the news reports on these idiots. And yes, if you are watching these shows to get a laugh, you are directly responsible for it when they get so drunk that they don't realize the cab of their truck is filling with carbon monoxide and they die. When they overdose, when they act like they have no common decency whatsoever, it is your fault for watching and sending the message that it is perfectly all right to destroy yourself because as long as we are entertained, you get paid.
If there was no big payday for you to act that way, you most likely would not take it to extremes to entertain the masses. Even if you acted that way on your own, you might have the hope of coming to your senses one day and growing up. Sadly, a lot of these kids never get to grow up because they kill themselves trying to top the last idiotic thing they did so the next episode will get good ratings.
Their poor Mothers. To lose a child that way is unthinkable to me. To know it was encouraged by thousands of people must tear away a part of your soul as a parent.
Once I explained it to my daughter and she got over being mad at me, she actually thought about what I said and told me that I was right. She just never would have thought of things that way.
Let me tell you something: Everything you do affects someone else in some way. Whether it is a T.V. show or smiling at a stranger in the grocery store. Try to affect someone else in a positive manner. Do unto others what you would have them do unto you. If you want someone to root on your childs' destruction, go on and watch those types of shows.
This world is what people want it to be. Nothing is going to change until we change it. Turning the channel will eventually stop the death of another Mother's child. Lesson learned.
Ya'll have a good night and if you are a parent, hold your children tight. We only have them for a little while.

Was That Funny?

So....it's April Fool's Day and I thought I might be able to fool my children. I knew my husband wasn't going to fall for anything but my kids are gullible enough. :)
I told them I had gone to the doctor today because I had been feeling strange and guess what??? We're pregnant!
My youngest daughter got crazy happy! She was laughing and asking when the baby would be here and how did this happen - which just got me laughing because I'm sarcastic and I thought of about fifty ways to answer that little question!
My oldest daughter got doe eyed and started crying. She was just so happy for me because she knows how badly I have wanted another baby for the past 14 years. The big alligator tears rolled down her face and she was honestly over joyed for me!
My son, however, went into protection mode; 'Mom! This is a bad idea. You are 40. You have had a heart attack. You have fibromyalgia and cmp and you hurt all the time and you've had a lot of miscarriages. How are you gonna get through this?'
WOW! ummm...April fools?
My youngest daughter was disappointed that she wasn't getting a younger sibling. My oldest daughter got mad and threw the newspaper on the ground and my son says, 'Oh! Thank God!'
Ok, so now we know...pregnancy is not a joke with my kids! Think I'll skip the April fools next year! Geeze!
I am hoping this flare goes away soon. I still have my daughters' graduation to deal with. I haven't even found the  invitations that I want and she graduates in a month! I'm not procrastinating. I just can not find the design I was looking for. I have to get on the ball and plan her party, get the invites out and get ready for her to head off to college.
I am not looking forward to it. I have two children leaving home this summer. I will have one child in the house and that time will fly by too. In four years, there will be no children in the house and that makes me sad. I am happy to see them start their lives but I have been a full time Mother for so long, it will be a huge change for me. We shall see how well I handle it.
I hope everyone has had a nice April 1st. It was a beautiful day here. I think spring has finally sprung. God bless you all and a special blessing to a special little girl who turned 18 today. If you are reading this sweetheart, Happy Birthday. I love you and I am proud of the young woman you are becoming. Now, go snuggle with your Mama. 18 is grand for you but for us Mama's, 18 is a hard pill to swallow. Let her know you love her. She has loved you with her whole being for your whole life and that is never going to change. You will always be her baby no matter how old you are! Happy Birthday Darlin!

A Slow Easter

I remember when holidays were exciting and fun. Then I had children. When they were small, I used to get really excited about the holidays and couldn't wait to see the looks on their little faces when they were given their gifts and when they sat down to a huge holiday meal with all of their favorite things.
Now that they are older and all most ready to leave home, that excitement has faded for both them and me. Now holidays are just a whole lot of work and when it is time to sit down and enjoy the family I am just exhausted. Where did the joy go?
I wanted to go to church this morning. In fact, I have wanted to go to church for the past three months! This winter has been one of the worst that I can remember for me. Fibromyalgia is progressive. Usually it progresses slowly but I have CMP on top of it and that progresses much quicker. It took a solid leap forward this winter and most mornings feel like I have been tortured by some sadistic jerk. Our bed is part of the problem. In my humble opinion it is a piece of something that you wouldn't want on the bottom of your shoe.
I like my church. I like the people and our Pastor is a good man. I know he is tired of inviting me to church and me telling him that I want to be there and then I'm a no show. It isn't that I'm not trying. I am. This morning is a good example of what I go through.
I had all these plans for today. Go to church, come home and cook a big Easter meal and enjoy the time God has given me with my family. Didn't happen.
I couldn't get out of bed. Again. I tried but there was a stupid amount of pain. I often say it is STUPID to hurt this much! It has to do with a lot of factors; weather, sleep, the bed...lots of stuff. Point is, it took two pain pills, a prayer and the help of my husband to even get my feet on the floor this morning. By then it was 11 a.m. and church was starting.
I never take two pain pills. Never. I seriously considered just staying in bed but I knew that would just cause more pain and I have a family to take care of, pain or no pain.
So I missed church and then Easter dinner took me an extra long time to cook because I had to keep taking breaks because of the pain so by the time I got dinner on the table it was 6p.m. and everyone was hungry and grouchy. I felt like a failure. It wasn't my best work.
After dinner everyone wanted to watch a movie together but holy cow, I was exhausted. I just wanted to go lay down. But I didn't. I toughed it out. After the movie with the kids, I was so relieved when my husband took pity on me and asked me to go watch t.v. in our bedroom. He knew I was done. He knew I would fall asleep while he watched the news and I think that's why he asked. That's just what I did too. Nap! Gotta love those things.
I hope this isn't a preview of things to come. One dinner should not exhaust me. I want those holidays back when I decorated the whole house and enjoyed cooking the meal. From now on, I'm going to have to do everything in advance while I feel well enough to do it. Then if I am going through a flare like now, it won't be such a chore to get everything ready.
Days like these I really wish there was a cure for Fibro and CMP. They rob you of the joy you should have and replace it with pain, frustration and exhaustion. I'm going to keep fighting it and keep searching for ways to minimize it's impact because this is getting ridiculous!
But for tonight I'm a tired girl. I hope all of you had a wonderful Easter! Pain or not, I am eternally grateful for what Jesus did for me. Without that act of pure love, our lives would be pointless. That is the perfect reason for me to keep pushing forward.

The Amazing Danny! (A.K.A. My Husband)

I looked at the stats tonight and saw that I have had 666 page views this month. Gasp! I HATE that number! Gives me the heebeejeebies! So I decided to go ahead and enter another post. I have been putting it off while I try to figure a few things out. But with the help of my family, I think I have handle on what has been bothering me, even though I don't like the answer.
My husband is an amazing man. He has willingly put up with me for 20 years. Go figure! But I have come to see in these past two weeks that he loves me for who I am and not who he thinks I should be.
I have been wrestling with who I am versus who I am expected to be. I think that, even if it hurts, I am going to be who I am. I'm going to lose some friends over it and that is not something that I wanted but I don't think I can live with myself if I can't be me at all times.
I am a smart ass by nature. I have a dry sense of humor and I'm a bit cynical. I care deeply for people even when they don't care for me. I pray for strangers and lost pets and I'm constantly searching for knowledge. I just want to know things.
With fibromyalgia you tend to forget many of the things you once knew and recent studies suggest that if you don't keep your mind active, you are at greater risk for Alzheimer's disease. I look for things to study. Sometimes it's stupid little stuff like what is WD-40 and why did they invent it, But mostly it's big stuff -well, big to me, like why are we here and what is the truth behind the Christian history and why did the Catholic church try so hard to hide ancient writings?
Once I dove into that mess, I found some crazy surprising things! It led me down roads that I'm still exploring and excited about! So, of course I wanted to share that information with some of my  friends....fatlottagood that did!
You ever get excited about something and someone who you hoped would be excited too comes along with a sharp pin and pops your shiny balloon? That's what happened. Seems I interrupted her online game with my excitement so she couldn't take the time to hear me out - even though I always take time out to listen to her when she needs someone to.
I got to thinking about it and it happens more often than not and not only with that particular friend. My daughter overheard me talking to my husband about it and she said something that struck home...."Mom, your friends don't like you because you know way too much stuff and they don't really want to know it." BAM! Hardcore truth.
She's right. I need new friends. I only have one friend who is interested in the same stuff that I am and doesn't blow me off for something petty. In fact, she never blows me off. She wants to learn from me and I want to learn from her and I really enjoy bouncing ideas off each other. I need more friends like her. People who are comfortable with me being me and comfortable in their own skin.
It hurt when I realized that my daughter is right. Really hurt. Because I recognized it as truth. But then my husband said the greatest thing to me, "I have always been your best friend because I love who you are." Then he kissed me on the forehead.
He and I are a strange couple. I am intellectual and sometimes overly emotional and he is logical and quiet. We compliment each other in many ways. I sometimes don't realize that he sees how deeply certain things bother me and he does his best to make me feel better. Like now, at a time when I am wrestling with who is really a friend and who is not, he steps in and reminds me that my best friend is sitting right beside me. He has been all along.

Starting Over

I have come to realize that sometimes it is necessary to completely rearrange. Just wipe the slate clean and start all over again. I think there are times in life when you realize that things just aren't right and you have to tear it all down and rebuild it so it is right. Now, for some people that could mean renovating a room in their house or changing up their yard or changing out their wardrobe but for me, it means tearing down and rebuilding my little world. It is off kilter and I just don't like it.
For many of my acquaintances I have become that friend. You know the one. The friend that you call if you are bored and have nothing better to do. The one you call to do a little research for you that you don't feel like doing yourself. The one that you make plans with but always end up cancelling when something just a little better comes along. The one who does your favors and listens to your problems but doesn't really cross your mind until you need something else. The friend that you flake because you can and she'll be there the next time you need her.
I have been patient and let it slide with several people for quite some time now. But now I am done.
I am stubborn and sometimes I mistake that stubbornness for loyalty, which is probably why I have put up with it for so long. My husband keeps telling me that friends do not treat each other this way and I have not listened to him. I should have. But let's face it, if I had listened to him I would have had to do something about it sooner and I just didn't want to have to admit it to myself. I hate it when he's right.
So I am purging my life of everyone who treats me this way. You know what? That doesn't leave very many people left. Funnily enough, I am all right with that.
 Everything came to a head this week when I realized just how far I have let this go. I had one of the worst days that I have had in a very long time. My husband had to work late so I couldn't talk to him and my 'friends' sent me to voicemail - as usual, and it dawned on me; I don't treat people this way so why do I allow them to treat me this way?
I know that it was my own fault. People basically suck and will treat you how you allow yourself to be treated. I won't allow myself to be treated this way anymore.
I am always telling people to take responsibility for themselves. I'm taking my own advice. I am going to spend some time by myself and work on the things that I want to accomplish in life and then I am going to slowly but surely surround myself with people who treat me the way that I treat them.
Once I decided to just face this and change it, I felt peaceful about it. That tells me it's all going to be all right.
Change isn't easy. Sometimes it's painful. But in the end, to have a little dignity, it's worth it.

I don't think I introduced myself, did I?

It dawned on me tonight that I never did introduce myself to you. What a dork! My apologies!
My name is Rebecca. I am 40 years old. No last name because I like the illusion of online privacy at least to a small degree. I have lived in Tennessee for close to 8 years now, before then I lived in Oklahoma with my husband of nearly 20 years and our three children. I have a son who is 20, a daughter who is 18 and my baby girl who is 14.
I also have 2 very large dogs, a good Pyrenees (She's not a Great Pyrenees because she is half red healer) and a Pitt Bull/Husky mix whom I think would be my husband if he were human because we adore each other. :)
Brace yourself; I have 6 cats. Not my fault. One, who is 17- he's a ragamuffin. The other five are outside kitties. You see, we live out in the country on 6.5 acres and people really believe if they dump their unwanted pets out here, some nice farmer will take them in. That is not always the case. Sometimes by the time I find them, it is too late and that both breaks my heart and pisses me off.
 The kitties that we have found their way here and what am I gonna do? I can't let them starve! I can't take them to the humane society either because ours is a three day kill shelter. I do not want to be responsible for taking a life. So I feed them and they keep showing up. The latest one is a gorgeous Siamese female who is pregnant and won't let me touch her. Maybe someday she'll trust that if I'm going to feed her, I'm not going to hurt her. I'll give her time.
I am opinionated and I have a big mouth. Just a fact that I accept about myself. I do not try to be ugly to people but I have been told repeatedly since I was a child that I am brutally honest. That confuses me because I don't think there is anything brutal about honesty. I don't like to dance around a subject or sugar coat things because when you do that, people tend to miss the point. I am not politically correct because I think it's dumb to be offended so easily. Truth is truth. Sometimes truth is hard to hear and sometimes truth is enlightening and informative. We can't obtain knowledge from lies and sugar coated truth. So I prefer pure truth.
I don't know everything. Not by a long shot but for my entire life, I have been so hungry for knowledge. I have always wanted to know the who, what , when, where, why and how of just about everything. There is just so much to learn! It's my drug.
When I was a child, my Mother had her children tested. My I.Q. was high back then. It is supposed to diminish as we get older but mine did not. It grew. Sir Isaac Newton and I have the same I.Q. as of two years ago and it isn't because I am so much smarter than anyone else. It is because I am such a curious person. I just want to learn!
I have taught myself to knit, crochet, paint, sculpt, make jewelry, gourmet cook, remodel houses, re purpose furniture, garden and now I'm learning how to farm. I LOVE to create things from scraps!
I am learning all about heirloom seeds and how to collect them from the fruit or veggie, how to store them and start them for the next planting. I am also learning all about cattle and milking goats and making cheese and butter and canning and preserving.
I am big into nutrition because after my heart attack I knew it was time to change course. I want to spoil my grand babies some day!
I am a documentary buff and if my nose isn't buried in a book, I am looking up information online. I love to share that information too. If someone wants to learn something and they come to me, I am so happy to help them learn. It really gives me joy to see someone understand something new and use that information to make a small part of their life better.
I have a heart for the outcasts in this world. People are misunderstood sometimes and those people - teenagers mostly, end up at my house. I feed them, listen to them, offer advice and let them know that once they walk through my front door I am responsible for them and they will obey the rules of my home. No child will leave my home hungry or feeling misunderstood. I know what those things feel like. I was a very misunderstood child. Alot of the kids who come through my door don't have parents that care much about them and it is just heartbreaking.
I am a firm believer in God and Jesus Christ. You can't put me in a box where religion is concerned. I'm not Protestant or Baptist or Catholic or whatever. I am a Christian. Simply put, I believe the Bible and follow it to the best of my ability.
Sometimes, I'm hard to get to know because I tend to sit back and watch a person's actions before deciding if they would be a real friend. But once you get to know me, you find that I have a dry sense of humor and am loyal to a fault. If I consider you my friend, there isn't much I wouldn't do for you.
I'm also a pain in the butt. I have fibromyalgia and chronic myofascial pain and in the mornings I am completely useless and sometimes down right mean before I have enough coffee in my system.
 If you make the mistake of hurting one of my children or a child - or anyone for that matter who is defenseless I will do my best to end you. My temper, in those situations even scares me sometimes.
So, I'm no where near perfect but I do my best to be a good person. I am at a point in my life where I know me well and I like me.
I do want to get to know you. I will share things I have learned and if there is something you want to learn I will be happy to help you. Most of all, I want you to know who you are and like yourself.
So that's me. Now I have introduced myself :)