Fibromite to normal

Dear J When you touched me sun and i sarted to cry, it wasnt you. it was me. i let the pain get out of control, allowed myself to get too tired. And when that happens, a hand on my flesh is too painful. Sometimes that pain makes me cry. I didnt want you to know this, didnt want you to see this part of my world, dont want anyone to have access to that experience. I dont want anyone to see me as sick or weak or less than anyone else. I dont want anyon to judge my experience, call it a win, because today i got ou of bed, or went to work, or hiked a trail. If it would not be a win for a normal, i dont want it to be a win for me either. i want to be regarded as a normal. I dont want to be a fibromite, dont want to live by those standards, or rather to have anyone know that i am restricted by those standards. Thank you for not freaking out that I cried on you and thank you for not yelling at me. For being understanding and for letting me keep pushing until the work was finaly done because if i had taken a break, i would not be able to keep working - would not have been able to do so much as get myself out of the car. And thank you for quietly taking on what i could not. Thank you for being strong enough to take than on even when you were in pain as well. You wont read this, i wont show this to you but i appreciate and love you for all that you are. I am grateful the world has sent you into my life right now. * * * * * Dear Fibro I hate you and the way you have worked on destroying my body. I hate that at times, i cant get out of bed without the pain bringing tears. I hate that when i fell today, it took me almost a quarter of an hour to get back to standing and no on was sure if they were calling me an ambulance or not. I hate that you make me so tired that even eating takes my energy. Hate that yu make my organs hurt and hate that the pain can make me depressed. I hate that I cant be all i want to with you around. I hate that i have to hide you - that i will be judged for you and that because you are invisible to anyone but me, that my explinations aren`t something people can relate to. I hate that the woman at the caves knew there was something wrong, and thought it was asthma and weight. You weren`t invited into my life, you came and jumped into my body and took over like a parasite. I hate the chemicals i take to counter you, hate being surrounded by pills and bottles and having to think every day about where they are so i know if i can be away from home that night. I hate that thsi weekend you were sch an enemy i thought about taking an alternative pain product, just because my chemicals stopped working. I hate that you steal my flexibility and my energy. I wont give up my dreams for you, but why must i change them either? Why do you get a say in how i control my body, my time? Who gave you that power, and why is it that every time i refuse to respect your limits, your rules, I lose? Why is it fighting against you only hurts me and never you? * * * * * Toady has been a hard and introspective day with this disease. May tomorrow bring the strength to fight again, the wisdom to pick my battles and the courage to face another day.

I know your problems seem bigger and harder to deal with than mine right now. And maybe they are. But righ now, I have listened to yours for a long time and I want to talk. Can you give me that? i wont ask more than once, i don have that assertiveness in me yet so if i ask and you keep talking, I will shut up and swallow my needs for you. can you be the person who will give me the time and space i need to do what you do so freely? Yes, your laundry struggles are valid, and your need to juggle the work schedules of two jobs and all these things that you, as my collective friends, have on your hands are important. But right now, my car is most likely totalled, my work life is a mess and i am taking on everyones extra again. Do me the favor and if you lessen a bit of my load, i can take on a bit of yours...