And then there are days like today...

Days that are just so bad, you wonder why you're alive in the first place.  What's the point in wasting all that air, resources, time, energy?  If you loved someone, why would you ask them to take care of you?  If you loved someone, why would you ask them to take on an extra load?  Ya know that thing I mentioned earlier, the thing I said I was excited for and if it went through, I'd share?  Well, now I'm too embarrassed to share.  Why?  Because.  Here I thought it would bring me more happiness.  It ended up bringing more pain and work for those I love.  Bad idea.  Very bad idea.  I tried.  I really did.  I really do.  Turns out it's never good enough.  Or just enough period.  Turns out this would end up hurting me more than helping me.  It hurts so bad when you're reminded, "your health isn't good enough for this."  I know that dammit, I know.  Please don't remind me, I've spent the last few years trying to convince myself it's not true.  I know it is, that's why it hurts even more.  You'll never understand how painful it is being told you can't do things normal people can do, because you're not well enough to do them.  I'm not even talking about anything amazing.  I'm talking about the little things.  The things you have to do as a human being to survive.  Being told someone can't do something because you're not well enough is the deepest cut you could ever make to someone with a disease like this.  You don't want to believe in Fibromyalgia?  That would be FAR better than telling me that my disease is hindering the people I love most.  It's so interesting, too.  We just got back from my mom's house last night from the Thanksgiving break.  I went with my sister to her class in church.  The lesson was on gratitude.  I raised my hand and shared that even though I have this awful disease, I still try to be grateful for things in life.  Me.  This person here.  This person writing right now how it would be better if I didn't exist at all.  Was it just yesterday?  See?  This is the dark side to Fibromyalgia I've been talking about.  You're getting to see this side as it's happening!  :)  Quite a treat... :)  While I do try, I try the hardest  I can, it's never enough.  It's never enough to cut it.  It never has been, and it never will be.  Yes, I am grateful.  Yes, I do love my life, most of the time.  When I'm not in a funk like this.  These moods don't come too often, thank goodness, but they're enough to start a real good flare up that will remind me that emotional stress isn't good for this disease so I need to be nicer to myself.  Ok, I'll be nicer tomorrow.  Today?  Today it's self-hatred all the way.  What, I told you from time to time there ARE pity parties.  I haven't had one in a while, I guess it was over due.  Ok, so here are instructions to the best pity party ever:

1.  The guilt that you've ruined EVERYONE'S life is number one.  Yes, the guy bagging your groceries.  You've never met him, but I'm sure I've ruined his life in some way!  The guilt I've ruined the lives of those I love the most.  Who would intentionally hurt the people they love?  Someone who has Fibromyalgia, that's who!  'Cause if I had just prayed more, kept my diet better, exercised more, kept healthier relationships and spoke up about my abuse, I wouldn't have this!

2.  Think of ALL the ways you've ruined their lives.  Um, I woke up, I'm alive, I don't do anything but steal their resources, I'm a leech, um..... I'm alive?

3.  Think of ALL the ways they'd be better off without you.  Goodness, imagine what it would be like to have a hot wife that was actually a companion!  Wow, there's a novelty idea!  Someone who actually did housework?  Someone who actually did all the stuff for the kids?  Someone who was educated?  Someone who was drop-dead gorgeous?  Wait, you're telling me there ARE wives like that out there?  Oh, most of them have at least a few of those qualities?  Mmmm, I don't have one.  Check.  Hubby would be better off with someone else.  The kids?  Oy, let's not talk about that one, that one hurts too much.  I'll just let you know I don't do anything a mom should be doing.  :/

4.  Wonder why in the world you're still around.  I sit.  That's what I do.  I sit.  Are you confused, you don't know what that means?  Yeah, neither does my family.

Everyone in life has their purposes.  I'm positive my lot in life was to teach people patience.  Live with me for a week and see if you don't want to kill me.  There, I just taught you patience.  That is my one and only lot in life.  My husband's already very patient.  I don't need to teach him patience, so again I'll ask, what is my purpose of being here?  To hurt everyone?  To hinder everyone?  To have people be embarrassed of me?  She's the "sick one."  The one who can't even take a shower un-assisted.  I don't help anyone, I don't do anything, I don't contribute to anything.  Ya wanna know the crappiest part about it?  That will never change.  This will never go away.  No amount of self-discipline will ever change that.  Ever.  That's what hurts the most.  My family thinks, heck I think for some reason, that one of these days, I'll just "snap out of it."  Like it's a disease you'll snap out of.  I wish this was just a phase.  Just a lazy stage in my life.  That's the thing, I'm not lazy.  I want to be the best mom ever, the best wife ever.  I'm dying to go back to school.  I'm dying to travel, to go places, to see things.  I will never accept the fact that I won't.  I won't do any of the things I want to do.  If I'm just living to survive, I don't want to survive.  If I'm only alive to breath and say, "well, it's better than being dead", then that's not good enough.  It never will be.  This, this is the ugly side of Fibromyalgia.  The guilt, the anger, the anguish, the frustration, the guilt, the pain, the guilt.  The guilt of being someone's problem.  The guilt from being told, "you're not well enough to live like me, like her, like everyone else but you."  You're not well enough, so you sure as hell don't deserve it.  I know it's not meant that way, but if it were you, wouldn't you feel that way, too?  Wouldn't you be mad as Hades if you were told you couldn't do the things you wanted to do?  Not even the things you wanted to do; the things you needed to do.  That's the most painful aspect of it all.  The fact that people look at you like this, treat you like this, and only because you ARE this way.  You are this way, and nothing you do or say will ever change that.  Ever.  You will live a half a life for the rest of your life.  That's not the life for me.  I want it all, or I don't want any of it.  I don't want to be responsible for anyone's pain.  For their suffering.  I am guilty.  I am hurting.  I am scared.  I will be for the rest of this half of a life.  There will be days I feel empowered, days where I feel positive, where I feel like I can kick Fibromyalgia in the eye.  Today is not one of those days.  Today is a day where one simple remark of "you're not healthy enough for this" will crumble my entire insides.  Days like today where my emotional pain will only outweigh my physical pain for a little while.  Just long enough to make the physical pain hurt even more, which will make the emotional pain hurt even more, and so the cycle will continue.  There, now you have found my Achilles heel.

It's one of these days.  Only we don't have money for food.  Yeah, then there's guilt about having had to quit your job of three years because of this disease... Mmmm, yes, pity party was loooong over-due.