Today has been a tough one. I received some news that set me back on my heels and while I knew it was going to come eventually, I was unprepared for how hard and how fast it hit. I did what I always do. I ran to God.
I have been talking to God since I was seven years old. I am long past the point that I mistake His voice for the chatter in my own head. You talk to someone long enough, you know when they are speaking back to you. I can honestly say that I am not a typical Christian. I disregard the rules that men have put in place over the centuries in order to gain more power and keep the people in line with what they want religion to look like at any given time. Those rules change constantly depending on who ever is in power at the moment. I completely ignore the opinions that are spouted from the pulpit if that opinion can not be backed up by the word of God. If any of us are honest even the tiniest bit, you have to read much more than the Bible in order to get the full scope of what God wanted us to know. The Catholics corrupted The Word. Nero corrupted The Word. The Romans and even the Christians have all had a part in corrupting what we were meant to understand. So now, If you truly want to know The Word, you not only have to study the Bible but also The Dead Sea Scrolls, The Apocrypha, The Codex and the independent writings of the Apostles just to name a few and you must do it in their original languages because everything loses vital meaning in translation.
All of this study, which I find immensely interesting, just boils down to one thing. LOVE. Gods laws are written on every person's heart. Love is what He wants from us. To love Him and to love each other. It's too bad that we don't get to see much of that anymore.
There is a big, fat difference between being a religious person and being a Christian. I hate religion with a neon purple passion. Religious people think that if they show up at church and look pious and follow the rules that men have set forth, then it is perfectly acceptable to be judgmental of another person for whatever reason they feel like, all the while smiling to your face, hugging your neck and then whispering behind your back. God bless them in their stupidity. They sorely need it.
I feel sorry for religious people because they believe every word a Pastor says without searching it out for themselves. Pastors are human beings and many of them make mistakes. That is understandable, but to not find out the truth for yourself doesn't make it the Pastor's fault when you screw up majorly because you didn't educate yourself.
I say all of this for a very good reason. The news that knocked me backward today was about my health. I am now facing a major battle because when I was a child, the people around me who claimed to be Christians, damaged my body in ways that now only God can heal. These are people who were not really Christians. They just claimed the title. What they actually were was religious. Fake Christians. A Deacon of the church who was a major player in the KKK. A group of relatives who were at every church function and put on 'the perfect family' act for the other religious people but behind closed doors did and allowed to be done unspeakable things to us -the children. Those people are still in the church and yet they encourage suicide to any young adult in the family who does not present 'the perfect family' act to the rest of the religious idiots. The message sent out is "If you don't live like us, then maybe you should think about not living anymore because we don't want people to think badly of the family. We have an image to maintain."
This evening, I read a post on facebook from someone who said that they had stopped listening to a certain Pastor after he had said that gay people go to Heaven. Religion is exactly what I saw in that judgmental statement. In no part of Gods word does it say that gay people go to Hell. In fact, The Bible clearly states that there is but ONE unforgivable sin and none of us are capable of committing that sin yet. Religion is a funny, judgmental, hateful thing and I truly despise it. You can not have too many blessings in the form of money or nice cars or clothing or you must somehow be corrupt nor can you have too little or you must have committed some sin that is impeding your blessings. You must be just like every other religious person to be a 'Christian'.
But a real Christian thinks for themselves. That person seeks out Gods word and asks for Gods help in gleaning understanding. A true Christian will see the sin and pray for the sinner privately rather than gossiping about that person. They do good for others without shouting it out for the world to hear so others will praise them for their goodness. A true Christian loves honestly and helps quietly. They take no pleasure in making others feel small because they prefer to offer a hand to help that person back to their feet.
Today, after realizing the full effect of what religious people have done to me, I confronted each and every one of them and proceeded to purge every religious person from my life. That meant that all but two members of my extended family had to go. Permanently. I'm ok with that.
I don't know what God's plan is for me but I do know that it does not include religion. I am a daughter of The King. I deserve better than religion and the damage it brings. I am not perfect but each new day, I do my best to be better than the day before and I do nothing without my Father. I am a Christian. I follow Christ. That's the difference.
Friday, March 28, 2014
Saturday, March 15, 2014
Not Sleeping With The Enemy
There are 168 hours in a week. Most doctors recommend that we sleep for 56 or more of those hours in order for our bodies to repair and refresh themselves and maintain optimal health. In the past 168 hours I have slept for a total of 9 of those hours. My chronic body has once again, become my enemy.
As in many chronic pain conditions, fibro bodies go through periods of flare, also known as intense, unrelenting pain everywhere. No matter how strong the sleeping pill the doctor gives me, the pain walks right through it and says, "Oh! You thought you were going to sleep tonight? Aren't you just the cutest for thinking that."
Even though I am insanely cranky and tired, I may even just be insane at this point, today those four little words sunk in that drive most of us chronic pain people nuts. This time they didn't make me nuts, instead they caused me to re-evaluate how I feel about those four words. You don't look sick.
I ran into an old friend today that I haven't seen in several months. The moment that I stepped out of my truck she squealed, "Oh my Gosh, Rebecca! You look amazing!" She hugged me and then kept putting her hands around my waste, squeezing to see how small I have gotten. She repeatedly asked what I have been doing to look so amazing. She kept calling me 'beautiful' and 'one sexy Mama', and wanted to know if I could show her how to get in the shape that I am in.
Now, the internal conversation was vastly different from the external conversation. In my typical smartass fashion, the reply in my head went something like this, "Oh sure! You can look like an anorexic teenager too! All you have to do is ask God for fibromyalgia and as many of it's companion diseases as you can handle. Make sure that you ask to be in so much pain that you either have no appetite or can not hold food down and be certain to ask for enough pain that sleep is impossible for four or five days at a time and you're golden! Now stop touching me!"
The external conversation went like this, "Oh! Thank you. I haven't been doing anything different but that's so sweet of you." She knows that I have fibromyalgia but she is not one of those friends who has bothered to try to understand the disease. She means well and I don't want to hurt her feelings so even though the squeezing caused more pain and the gushing compliments made me uncomfortable, she doesn't know any better because I don't look sick.
I don't have an injury or illness that is obvious to the person who isn't looking for it. My close friends can take one look at me and know when I am having a bad pain day but the rest of the world sees a healthy, well groomed, fit woman. They have no idea that my shoulder and ribs are out of place again, making it hard to breath. They don't know that I haven't slept at all because I have learned the tricks that get rid of bags under my eyes and freshen sallow, sleep deprived skin. They never notice that I am gritting my teeth behind that friendly smile because it's killing me to stand there and observe the niceties of small talk. They have no idea that hug or friendly pat on the back probably just left a bruise or that under my jeans my legs look like someone used them for soccer practice because I have fallen down four times this week and bumped into various objects countless times because once again, my depth perception is off and sometimes my legs suddenly decide not to work mid-stride.
I don't look sick because I work damn hard to not look sick! As I drove away from my friend today, it dawned on me that I have been working to not look sick for over twenty years. Early on, I did it because if you look like you are in pain when you go to work, inevitably, the boss will want to send you home. Not good for the paycheck. Later, I did it to hide my pain from my children. I didn't want to scare them. I didn't want them to get the idea that Mommy couldn't play with them so I would paint on that smile and push through the pain so they could have great childhood memories. After that, I decided to not look sick so I didn't get those awful sympathy looks from anyone. If I am going to look the way that I feel, it will be when I am at home by myself when I have no intention of going out.
My pain is internal. You can't see it. My daily struggle is also internal. You won't see it unless I let you in. Come to think of it, I am pretty proud of the fact that I don't look sick. I don't want to look sick. I want to look healthy and vibrant because it gives me hope that I can beat back some of the effects of this disease and guess what....some days, I actually do! It takes a whole lot of work to look normal. It takes even more work to have just one day every few months that I all most feel normal but like most of the chronic pain people that I know, I am more than willing to put the work in just to have that one day.
The strongest people that I have ever met are chronic pain patients. We are strong because we have to be. We feel that we have no other choice. Well, I suppose we could give up, lay on the sofa and wait to die but what fun is that? We'd rather fight. Every-Single-Day.
The next time that someone utters those four little words to me I won't be offended. I will be proud. The next time that I hear those four little words, I will know that once again I have won because I don't look sick.
As in many chronic pain conditions, fibro bodies go through periods of flare, also known as intense, unrelenting pain everywhere. No matter how strong the sleeping pill the doctor gives me, the pain walks right through it and says, "Oh! You thought you were going to sleep tonight? Aren't you just the cutest for thinking that."
Even though I am insanely cranky and tired, I may even just be insane at this point, today those four little words sunk in that drive most of us chronic pain people nuts. This time they didn't make me nuts, instead they caused me to re-evaluate how I feel about those four words. You don't look sick.
I ran into an old friend today that I haven't seen in several months. The moment that I stepped out of my truck she squealed, "Oh my Gosh, Rebecca! You look amazing!" She hugged me and then kept putting her hands around my waste, squeezing to see how small I have gotten. She repeatedly asked what I have been doing to look so amazing. She kept calling me 'beautiful' and 'one sexy Mama', and wanted to know if I could show her how to get in the shape that I am in.
Now, the internal conversation was vastly different from the external conversation. In my typical smartass fashion, the reply in my head went something like this, "Oh sure! You can look like an anorexic teenager too! All you have to do is ask God for fibromyalgia and as many of it's companion diseases as you can handle. Make sure that you ask to be in so much pain that you either have no appetite or can not hold food down and be certain to ask for enough pain that sleep is impossible for four or five days at a time and you're golden! Now stop touching me!"
The external conversation went like this, "Oh! Thank you. I haven't been doing anything different but that's so sweet of you." She knows that I have fibromyalgia but she is not one of those friends who has bothered to try to understand the disease. She means well and I don't want to hurt her feelings so even though the squeezing caused more pain and the gushing compliments made me uncomfortable, she doesn't know any better because I don't look sick.
I don't have an injury or illness that is obvious to the person who isn't looking for it. My close friends can take one look at me and know when I am having a bad pain day but the rest of the world sees a healthy, well groomed, fit woman. They have no idea that my shoulder and ribs are out of place again, making it hard to breath. They don't know that I haven't slept at all because I have learned the tricks that get rid of bags under my eyes and freshen sallow, sleep deprived skin. They never notice that I am gritting my teeth behind that friendly smile because it's killing me to stand there and observe the niceties of small talk. They have no idea that hug or friendly pat on the back probably just left a bruise or that under my jeans my legs look like someone used them for soccer practice because I have fallen down four times this week and bumped into various objects countless times because once again, my depth perception is off and sometimes my legs suddenly decide not to work mid-stride.
I don't look sick because I work damn hard to not look sick! As I drove away from my friend today, it dawned on me that I have been working to not look sick for over twenty years. Early on, I did it because if you look like you are in pain when you go to work, inevitably, the boss will want to send you home. Not good for the paycheck. Later, I did it to hide my pain from my children. I didn't want to scare them. I didn't want them to get the idea that Mommy couldn't play with them so I would paint on that smile and push through the pain so they could have great childhood memories. After that, I decided to not look sick so I didn't get those awful sympathy looks from anyone. If I am going to look the way that I feel, it will be when I am at home by myself when I have no intention of going out.
My pain is internal. You can't see it. My daily struggle is also internal. You won't see it unless I let you in. Come to think of it, I am pretty proud of the fact that I don't look sick. I don't want to look sick. I want to look healthy and vibrant because it gives me hope that I can beat back some of the effects of this disease and guess what....some days, I actually do! It takes a whole lot of work to look normal. It takes even more work to have just one day every few months that I all most feel normal but like most of the chronic pain people that I know, I am more than willing to put the work in just to have that one day.
The strongest people that I have ever met are chronic pain patients. We are strong because we have to be. We feel that we have no other choice. Well, I suppose we could give up, lay on the sofa and wait to die but what fun is that? We'd rather fight. Every-Single-Day.
The next time that someone utters those four little words to me I won't be offended. I will be proud. The next time that I hear those four little words, I will know that once again I have won because I don't look sick.
Monday, March 10, 2014
Getting Back To You
I have been having several small breakthroughs in my little world lately. They are all of a deeply personal nature. Small things that I have never noticed about myself until I started paying more attention to me than to everyone around me. Tonight I had that one big epiphany that caused me to literally stop in my tracks and say, "You knew that all along. You just never acknowledged it out loud." The best way I can describe it is like seeing cracks appear in a concrete wall. The wall has been solid for years. It has also been in your way, preventing you from moving forward. Now there are hundreds of cracks in that wall, some large enough to allow sunlight to peak through. Any moment now, the whole thing is going to fracture and fall and you will pick your way through the rubble and move forward.
Here is what I know about me; I could easily become a recluse. Other than the company of my children, I rarely crave human interaction in a face to face encounter. I have friends online. I talk to them often but at the same time, I realized this week that I am comfortable enough in my own skin that I very often prefer to spend my time all by myself. I know me and I like me. How many people in this world can say that? How many can say in all honesty, "I enjoy my own company." and truly mean it?
I have also discovered another truth about myself that deep down I have always known but pushed aside in order to take care of everyone around me; I was born to create. I am extremely unhappy if I am not creating something. It can be a new piece of jewelry, a mud pot, a quilt, a piece of knitting, a new chapter in my book....it doesn't matter what it is. I feel as though I have accomplished nothing at the end of the day if I have not created something or at the very least, drawn up a pattern for what I intend to create tomorrow. I am an artist.
It isn't a hobby. It is what I am. That truth feels like more than truth, yet it is a truth that I have not allowed myself to hold true to. There are many reasons that I have pushed me aside; Being a dutiful wife, Motherhood and just the effort that is required to keep day to day life from becoming a hopeless mess leaves no time for me. How many of us push our true selves aside for the very same reasons?
Something under my feet has shifted recently and changed my perspective. While I watch the wall in front of me begin to crumble, I am beginning to give myself permission to be me. Not everyone around me is happy with this shift. There are those who don't want to see me as anything except who they expect me to be. Those are the people who built the wall. There will always be people telling us that we can't. It doesn't really matter anymore though, does it? It's too late. I have seen the rays of sunshine pouring through the cracks. I can't unsee what has been seen and I don't want to.
I see a future filled to overflowing with books, sparkling beads, custom furniture, red clay pots, quilts, jewelry and most of all, peace. While I will make a conscious effort to not become completely reclusive, it is so incredibly easy for me to get lost in all of the creativity. Yet, I do intend to get lost in it. I have a sneaking suspicion that once I make my way through the rubble, whether others like it or not, I will have discovered something important that right now, is just out of reach but has been waiting for me for years.
I'll get there. My dining room table is currently covered in sparklies of all shapes and sizes. I am moving forward slowly but surely. How many of us realize one day that we are not being true to who we are inside? How often do we set aside our dreams in order to keep our day to day lives in perfect order or to take care of those around us?
Ask yourself this question: When is it your turn? Now answer yourself honestly. Is it when the kids grow up or when you have helped to make your spouse's dreams come true? Is it when you have saved enough for retirement or when you have met some other goal? Or is it now?
Here is what I know about me; I could easily become a recluse. Other than the company of my children, I rarely crave human interaction in a face to face encounter. I have friends online. I talk to them often but at the same time, I realized this week that I am comfortable enough in my own skin that I very often prefer to spend my time all by myself. I know me and I like me. How many people in this world can say that? How many can say in all honesty, "I enjoy my own company." and truly mean it?
I have also discovered another truth about myself that deep down I have always known but pushed aside in order to take care of everyone around me; I was born to create. I am extremely unhappy if I am not creating something. It can be a new piece of jewelry, a mud pot, a quilt, a piece of knitting, a new chapter in my book....it doesn't matter what it is. I feel as though I have accomplished nothing at the end of the day if I have not created something or at the very least, drawn up a pattern for what I intend to create tomorrow. I am an artist.
It isn't a hobby. It is what I am. That truth feels like more than truth, yet it is a truth that I have not allowed myself to hold true to. There are many reasons that I have pushed me aside; Being a dutiful wife, Motherhood and just the effort that is required to keep day to day life from becoming a hopeless mess leaves no time for me. How many of us push our true selves aside for the very same reasons?
Something under my feet has shifted recently and changed my perspective. While I watch the wall in front of me begin to crumble, I am beginning to give myself permission to be me. Not everyone around me is happy with this shift. There are those who don't want to see me as anything except who they expect me to be. Those are the people who built the wall. There will always be people telling us that we can't. It doesn't really matter anymore though, does it? It's too late. I have seen the rays of sunshine pouring through the cracks. I can't unsee what has been seen and I don't want to.
I see a future filled to overflowing with books, sparkling beads, custom furniture, red clay pots, quilts, jewelry and most of all, peace. While I will make a conscious effort to not become completely reclusive, it is so incredibly easy for me to get lost in all of the creativity. Yet, I do intend to get lost in it. I have a sneaking suspicion that once I make my way through the rubble, whether others like it or not, I will have discovered something important that right now, is just out of reach but has been waiting for me for years.
I'll get there. My dining room table is currently covered in sparklies of all shapes and sizes. I am moving forward slowly but surely. How many of us realize one day that we are not being true to who we are inside? How often do we set aside our dreams in order to keep our day to day lives in perfect order or to take care of those around us?
Ask yourself this question: When is it your turn? Now answer yourself honestly. Is it when the kids grow up or when you have helped to make your spouse's dreams come true? Is it when you have saved enough for retirement or when you have met some other goal? Or is it now?
Saturday, March 8, 2014
Spring Cleaning
I have been away from the blogging world for a week or so. I succumbed to the winter blues. While the rest of the country was wrapped in a blanket of snow, we were wrapped in a blanket of ice. School was cancelled for a week and we all came down with a bad case of cabin fever in addition to that 'blah' feeling you get when the sunshine has been absent for way too long.
Today the sun made an appearance. She brought warmer temperatures with her and you could just feel that gray feeling lift. We threw open the windows and I started my Spring cleaning. I am one of those odd balls who actually enjoys cleaning. When the house is clean, I feel clean. I don't know what it is, but for my family, a clean house seems to put everyone in a more relaxed mood.
I love the Spring all most as much as I love Autumn. It just feels like new possibilities. Today I struggled a bit with vacuuming the ceilings. I have all ready been laughed at for that but in my defense, we have textured ceilings. Thank God they aren't popcorn ceilings! Textured ceilings catch every piece of dust, dog hair, human hair and cobweb that happen to float by. I can't stand them! I vacuum them once a week to keep that nastiness at bay and to prevent it from some day falling in my coffee as I walk under it.
As I said, I struggled with the task today. Sunshine or not, the weather changed, meaning my fibro has been cranky. As I vacuumed, dusted, swept and mopped, I wondered about others with fibro. What things have others done to make daily tasks easier while in pain? There is no way that I can clean our entire home in one day. For one thing, I am ocd and if I am going to clean something I am going to be meticulous. If I don't, it bugs me until I go back and do it 'right' but also, fibro is not going to allow me to do everything in one day. After three hours of cleaning today, my wrists and hands were swollen enough that I held them under cold water for half an hour. Tonight my arms and back are mad at me for standing in an unnatural position for so long cleaning the ceilings.
Normally, I will knock out a couple of big chores a day. Bedrooms and bathrooms one day, dusting, sweeping and mopping another, a couple of loads of laundry everyday, but Spring is here so it is time to add four or five extra tasks to my day to day list until every part of this house has been scrubbed, polished and shined. I have had fibro my entire life but this year has been the worst for flare and sudden, unusual pain so I am looking for ways to accomplish my Spring cleaning while making it easier on myself. I can't hire someone to do it. For one thing, we can't afford it and for another, I would clean the house before she got here because I would be embarrassed to have another person clean up our messes. So that's out.
I have seen the Roomba vacuums but do they clean well? I want a steam mop but my husband says it will damage the laminate flooring. I do have a hand held steamer that I adore. It cleans better than anything I have ever used before and I don't have to coat the house in chemicals to clean it well. So that is my question of the week. If you have any condition that makes cleaning your home difficult, what have you discovered that helps you to clean effectively without aggravating your condition?
While I wait for your answers, I am going to scour the web for ideas and just get it done. My list is long and the fibro fairy saw it and cackled like the hag she is. I love starting Spring with a truly clean home so I am not about to give in to pain. I hope that where ever you are, the weather has warmed and you are pain free. As for me, I am done for today. I over did things and my body is letting me know it. I will spend the rest of today being nice to me and do it again tomorrow. Happy Spring!
Today the sun made an appearance. She brought warmer temperatures with her and you could just feel that gray feeling lift. We threw open the windows and I started my Spring cleaning. I am one of those odd balls who actually enjoys cleaning. When the house is clean, I feel clean. I don't know what it is, but for my family, a clean house seems to put everyone in a more relaxed mood.
I love the Spring all most as much as I love Autumn. It just feels like new possibilities. Today I struggled a bit with vacuuming the ceilings. I have all ready been laughed at for that but in my defense, we have textured ceilings. Thank God they aren't popcorn ceilings! Textured ceilings catch every piece of dust, dog hair, human hair and cobweb that happen to float by. I can't stand them! I vacuum them once a week to keep that nastiness at bay and to prevent it from some day falling in my coffee as I walk under it.
As I said, I struggled with the task today. Sunshine or not, the weather changed, meaning my fibro has been cranky. As I vacuumed, dusted, swept and mopped, I wondered about others with fibro. What things have others done to make daily tasks easier while in pain? There is no way that I can clean our entire home in one day. For one thing, I am ocd and if I am going to clean something I am going to be meticulous. If I don't, it bugs me until I go back and do it 'right' but also, fibro is not going to allow me to do everything in one day. After three hours of cleaning today, my wrists and hands were swollen enough that I held them under cold water for half an hour. Tonight my arms and back are mad at me for standing in an unnatural position for so long cleaning the ceilings.
Normally, I will knock out a couple of big chores a day. Bedrooms and bathrooms one day, dusting, sweeping and mopping another, a couple of loads of laundry everyday, but Spring is here so it is time to add four or five extra tasks to my day to day list until every part of this house has been scrubbed, polished and shined. I have had fibro my entire life but this year has been the worst for flare and sudden, unusual pain so I am looking for ways to accomplish my Spring cleaning while making it easier on myself. I can't hire someone to do it. For one thing, we can't afford it and for another, I would clean the house before she got here because I would be embarrassed to have another person clean up our messes. So that's out.
I have seen the Roomba vacuums but do they clean well? I want a steam mop but my husband says it will damage the laminate flooring. I do have a hand held steamer that I adore. It cleans better than anything I have ever used before and I don't have to coat the house in chemicals to clean it well. So that is my question of the week. If you have any condition that makes cleaning your home difficult, what have you discovered that helps you to clean effectively without aggravating your condition?
While I wait for your answers, I am going to scour the web for ideas and just get it done. My list is long and the fibro fairy saw it and cackled like the hag she is. I love starting Spring with a truly clean home so I am not about to give in to pain. I hope that where ever you are, the weather has warmed and you are pain free. As for me, I am done for today. I over did things and my body is letting me know it. I will spend the rest of today being nice to me and do it again tomorrow. Happy Spring!
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