I thought my symptoms were much worse than I had been before about three weeks after my fibromyalgia diagnosis. My thoughts were completely in chaos, I was in a lot of pain. It just seemed to be just ramping up, not that I did not feel like this manner before. Now I know that my illness cannot be cured, and that therapy may or may not work for me. I believe it’s different.
In recent weeks, I have been diagnosed with moments of full and total desperation. I feel like I did when, about seven years ago, I lost my dad in many respects. I was sitting on my bed at that moment, shouting in and fisting my hands, feeling frustrating and desperate, and just begging God, say, “I just want him back,” and “Give him back, please! Please, back to me! “I did the same thing for myself. I’ve been sitting on my bed, uncomfortable, looked up to God and said, “So, please, I just want to be exhausted and stressed, not because of illness I cannot easily treat, and I don’t really know.” I just want me back. I just want me back. I sat begging and I realized I’m never going to be that “me” any more. This ‘ me ‘ never again will be my truth. And I’m attempting to acknowledge that, so hard.
I understand now that my life is distinct, and I always understand. My heart is shattered to see my girls who had to show their mother who she was to whom I now belong. When he’s coming back home, I hate feeling that my husband is disappointed in me and it looks like I didn’t do anything when he went to job. I hate the impression that individuals feel I’m simply not social or I don’t just want to be around, when people, or the workplace is too stimulating, or the reality can be too much for me to manage.
It was a blessing, on the one hand, to know that not everything was in my head, and I weren’t just doing it. It was a big shock to me on the contrary and it was difficult for me to recognize that I am who I will be, perhaps for the rest of my life. If I could just believe clearly and communicate with my children as I was before and be present for them, I would bring all the pain I could manage physically. I’d like to sit down and draw up a food list or follow a recipe correctly. I’d love to have the energy to party with my girls and create our own hair and dance on a Friday night in the living room.
I still feel I mourn the loss of someone I love a lot even when I don’t lose anyone in the true sense of the word. I mourn the loss to “me” and I understand that this loss and pain sensation will improve with time if experience informs me anything. In the past, if I lost somebody that I love, I understand that I have to go through some of the same phases of grief. I understand that, and all that it reflects, I must learn to recognize that illness. I understand that’s the only way that I can ever do my life better.
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I know that all those ideas I have had are going to lead me to a location of recognition, rational and irrational. It’ll take time, I understand. In order to find the right treatment, I will have to learn to ask for help from my family if I need it, and I will need to ask for their patience when something that I can’t do is there. I think that the hardest thing is that learn to be patient with myself and accept myself for who I am. So, I must go to a place where I no longer grieve and accept who I am now and how to improve my life and those I love who suffer. I don’t want to worry about who I am now.
So now I undertake to find treatments that assist my quality of life, to educate myself about this disease so that I can decide more informedly about my health and learn to embrace all life change associated with a chronic disease. The feelings of loss I’m still attempting to address. I know it’s going to take time, but I know I’m going to come. On this trip, I realized that I’m not alone. Those that love me have I discovered assistance. I chose not to be embarrassed or disappointed at the difficult moments I’ve experienced because of this disease.
Perhaps one individual will read this and understand after receiving this news that it is OK not to be OK for a while. It’s all right to feel sorry and sorry for your lives. It’s also all right if you can find acceptance and move on to a location that allows you to look to your former selves and can feel happiness because of who you were. Before you were diagnosed, you are still the same individual. Due to it, you might even be better. But that’s where I try to go, and I know that I’ll get there. I haven’t quite done.
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