I'm gonna level with ya.

I wasn't sure how raw I wanted to make this blog.  Of course I'm very blunt and very open, but there are still things you keep locked secretly away.  Fibromyalgia can have a very dark side.  I wasn't sure if I wanted to keep this an entirely uplifting blog, give all the truths about Fibromyalgia, or what.  It was just going to be an informative thing.  I realized that if I really wanted to make it that way, I'd have to show the dark side of it, too.  This kind of scares me.  This would show a side to me that no one knows about.  A side to me that would leave me vulnerable.  The abuse I endured as a child toughened me.  It toughened me a lot.  Crying was a weakness, showing emotion or any vulnerability was the worst thing you could do.  Whether or not I still agreed with it, Fibro told me I wouldn't have a choice in the matter.  It's changed me in every way.  Ways I didn't imagine would even be possible.  Let's start at the beginning...

I've felt Fibromyalgia lurking since I was a girl.  The way you get Fibromyalgia is either from too much physical or emotional pain.  It's been proven that kids with abuse are far more likely to develop Fibromyalgia.  It's not rocket science, you can't deal with the pain, you're going to overload your pain receptors.  You'll break it.  Too much physical pain can also overload it as well.  Guess who has Fibromyalgia?  Morgan Freeman.  I was like, "dude, there's no way he has it.  He never would have been able to deal with the demands of filming."  I was right.  He only got it a few years ago from a car accident.  His arm was so damaged in the accident, it overloaded his pain receptors.  I should have dealt with the pain from my abuse better.  Hindsight is so 20/20.  If only we knew then what we know now.  Can't cry over spilled milk.  My abuse was horrendous.  I've never told anyone what's happened to me.  Not the abuse in detail.  Sure, it's easy to say I was sexually, physically and emotionally abused for years by family members and a neighbor.  To go into detail, I dunno.  That one's a bit tougher.  I never told any of my counselor's or friends, and my husband only gets bits and pieces here and there.  The abuse has made me stronger, why would I want to share something that makes me feel weaker?  I don't want to re-hash the past.  I don't want to be labeled, I do not want pity.  I am me.  We're all the way we are because of past events, but they sure don't define who we are.  I had close family members brainwash me.  They figured I was a bad influence for their kids because of my abuse.  They labeled me as stupid, dumb, untalented, boy crazy and a good for nothing trouble maker.  I believed them.  Why wouldn't you believe your family?  The adults in your life who were supposed to protect you?  Children will believe anything.  I did.  They're still stigma's I'm kicking in the a@$ today.  I know they're not true, and now that I have children of my own, it angers me even more.  That people would lie to you because they were jealous.  That they would try to destroy you and rip you apart for their own purposes.  If they're reading this, they'll know who they are.  And I guarantee you they are, 'cause they're nosy.  They'd never ask you to your face how you're doing.  They'd rather watch you from a distance.  Make you think they could care less, but silently watching you, 'cause they're fascinated with you.  Competing with you.  I pray I don't run into any of them ever again.  That's one thing I'm grateful for as far as Fibromyalgia goes.  I'll give you a piece of my mind faster than anyone you've ever met.  I'll tell you you're a sack of hot flamin' poo and then ask if you wanna go to the parking lot to settle this.  :)  Fibro or not, I'll kick your a.  I'll lick my wounds later, but I'll still take you down.  I will not be taken advantage of.  Not anymore.      Whether people want to deny it or not, the trauma's you deal with as a child DO affect you as an adult.  Sometimes, you don't even notice how much until you start trying to function like everyone else around you.  Sometimes you'll deny it's effecting you at all.  I am not one of those people.  I will be the first to tell you I am seriously flawed.  I have so many downfalls, I can't even see the good in me.  I will never deny the fact that I have so many things wrong with me.  You probably think things about me, and I'd be the first to agree with ya.  I realize there's so much I need to work on.  I'm willing to though, 'cause I want to be the best version of me that I can.  I want to be the best in all that I do.  I am not competitive, (okay, I am with my husband, but he's the only one.  Gotta beat him at everything, only 'cause he's that way with me!) I don't seek approval, and the only person I try to ever beat is myself.  To prove to myself that I am contributing, that I am better than what people said I was.  I know I'm better than what they said.  I've already proven it time and time again.  With all these experiences coming from the past, you can't pretend to wonder what the dark side to Fibromyalgia must be.  You almost have to re-hash the past daily because of the way Fibro makes you feel.  Now that you're crippled, you have to fight those voices three times harder.  There are and can be good days.  And then there's the days that your past is sitting on your shoulder, whispering lies.  I try, I try my hardest not to dwell on the lies, because I know that's all they are; lies.  I haven't cried since I was a very small girl.  I've convinced myself crying is weak.  Fibro was all like, "nah!  It'll help you feel better and besides, we've kept enough pain in, we don't have anywhere else to store it."  Okay, if it's to help with less pain, I'll cry.  Ya know, anything to help!  :)  I cry a lot now.  It's insane.  It's like I'm making up for decades worth.  Once I start, it doesn't wanna stop!  I mostly cry because my life was taken from me.  My innocence was raped as a child, my mind was poisoned, my body scarred.  Now my very soul has been taken from me.  When you've been abused, your desire to live is already twice the fight.  Add a disabling disease?  My body, mind and soul have been taken from me.  Where do I get the strength to keep fighting?  I'll never know.  Some days I don't win that battle, though.  There are days I cry my eyes out to my husband.  I tell him living half a life is no life.  I'm tired of only being able to sit back and watch my life passing by.  I'm a bystander of my own life.  Who will I be?  What am I doing?  Where am I going?  What will I do?  My Fibromyalgia gets to answer all those for me.  That pisses me off to no end.  I'm the most stubborn person in the world.  You dare try to tell me what to do, I'll do the opposite.  My mother and I were at odds for many years for this very reason.  I was the most headstrong teenager and I wouldn't be told what to do.  I'm the same as an adult, unfortunately.  Now some disease tells me what to do with my life?  If I had the strength, I'd tell it to go shove itself and ask it if it wanted to take this to the parking lot!  :)  I'd show it!  I don't, I can't.  And the thought of someone or something telling me what to do, how to do it, and how to live my life makes me angry.  It makes me angry as hell.  How dare anything tell me what to do.  I wish I could tell it off, I wish.  I wish I could punch it in the face.  I don't care how many times I say it, it's not fair.  No, life's not fair.  We're not here to talk about you, or what you're thinking.  ;)  I've told you the physical hell of living with this disease.  Now I'm telling you the mental one.  Sometimes I think Fibro is more mentally devastating than physically, if that's even possible.  The biggest one is guilt.  No matter how many people with Fibromyalgia you talk to, they'll all tell you guilt.  That's the biggest one.  Guilt for getting it in the first place.  "If only I'd done this differently, if only I could ignore it and pretend it's not real, if only this hadn't happened to me, if only, if only..."  The "if only" is a game that never goes away.  It's with you for the rest of your life.  I'm angry.  I'm angry and I wish I knew where to channel that anger.  It's not God's fault.  It's not my fault.  It's not anyone's fault.  Doesn't help me feel less angry.  Sometimes I wish it WAS someone's fault.  At least then I'd have something to be mad at!  I feel guilty my kids make comments about it.  I feel guilty they have to ask me every day how I'm feeling, they know it's the difference of a good or bad day for them.  A day playing at the park or being bored at home.  I feel guilty my husband's the only one cleaning, cooking, taking care of the kids non-stop.  I know we swore "in sickness and in health, 'till death do us part."  If the roles were reversed, I wouldn't give it a second thought.  I'd baby him 'till the day I died.  But it's not him, it's me.  I don't want his help.  I'm too prideful, I want to do it myself.  Before Fibromyalgia stole my life, I did my first baby all by myself.  I thought it was my job.  I wanted to do it.  You'd never see him feeding her.  I was the one up until three in the morning, I was the one changing all the diapers, cleaning the house, I did it all.  For years, I begged my husband not to clean or touch a thing in the house, I wanted to do it all.  Funny how the times have changed.  I feel disabled, crippled, useless.  I totally understand why old people are okay with dying.  They don't want to be anyone's problem.  They're tired of their bodies hurting, they want relief and they don't want to live half a life, burdening everyone they love.  That's what I feel.  Except unlike them, I haven't lived a full and satisfying life.  I can't say, "I lived I good life, I did it all, I've seen it all.  Now my body's done and I'm ready to return to my maker."  I haven't done anything, I haven't been anywhere.  My dream is to travel.  Will I ever be able to?  If I ever get there, will I just be stuck at the hotel because of a flare up?  Would I even have the energy and strength to fight the pain long enough?  Would I even enjoy it through the pain?  I heard a friend say she missed a special event for her daughter because of a headache.  I get cluster headaches all the time, migraines at the drop of a hat, and that's the LEAST of my worries.  What  events will I miss?  What will my family not do because of me?  My husband's only looking for jobs in warmer weather because of my disease.  What opportunities will he miss out on because of me?  Will he ever wish he had a healthier wife?  A companion, not a disabled person to take care of?  Will he look back and regret wasting his life on me?  Regretting taking care of me when he could have been out there, having it all?  Will he come to a point where he resents me?  Where he takes care of me begrudgingly?  Where he feels trapped with no way out?  Will my kids grow up telling their spouses and children what a horrible mother I was?  That I was never there for them?  That I never did the small things with them, that I never did the big things with them?  The kids already makes comments.  "You never want to do anything because of your Fibro!  You're always hurting, always tired.  I wish you were the old you."  My oldest daughter remembers me before Fibromyalgia.  She prays every night that God will return her mother back to her.  She's finally moving on to, "please make mamma better.  Please make her feel better again."  Do you have any idea how incredibly gut wrenching that is?  How guilty that would make you feel?  I promised myself that after my childhood, I would give my children the very best.  I'd be the best mom ever.  How quickly I fell short.  How quickly I failed at my biggest goal.  After nine years of being together, there are still times I try to convince my husband to leave me.  To start over.  I want him to have what he deserves.  A good, healthy, energetic, positive, uplifting wife.  A companion, not someone hindering him.  I want my children to have a mother.  Someone who does the things with them I cannot do.  I beg him to release me from this.  To release himself, to release my children.  No one asked for this, so I won't make anyone pay for it.  He never listens, and I can't say I blame him.  I would be the same way for him.  Doesn't make me feel any better or the guilt any less painful.  It hurts to live with Fibromyalgia.  When I say it hurts, I mean it hurts far more than you could ever understand.  It hurts, and then it hurts.  People say I'm inspiring them, that I'm a good example.  If that's how you feel, thank you.  That gives me the strength to keep going.  I want you to know though, that there is a much darker side to this.  I smile because I don't have a choice.  I'm strong because I don't have a choice.  I love and live passionately because I don't have a choice.  I sit here, watching you live your life.  I'm not jealous, I'm envious.  I wish I could have that, too.  I'm happy you get to live your life.  I hope you live it in a way I wish I could live mine.  Do not waste it.  It is a precious gift.  Please don't let things go unsaid.  Please don't let your dreams go, please live them.  It's something people envy you for.  It's a waste not to do everything you've ever wanted to do.  You can and you should.  If you can't do it for you, do it for me.  It would be such a waste, don't let that happen.  There's a saying, "you only get to live once."  Some of us don't even get that.  Please don't waste what I would give my life for.  Hug your children, take them to the park, clean the house for your spouse.  Travel.  Do the things you've been doing begrudgingly, knowing someone out there would kill to do them for you.