Over the last 20 years and I am 31 years old I have been facing chronic diseases in multiple forms. For as long as I remember I had migraines, and I developed my fibromyalgia 8 years ago.
I like to believe I’m fairly good at handling my pain after all these years. You might actually say that from time to time I am quite crowded with myself. I work in complete, socialize and copy the strategy up to the tee with my colleagues and family. I operate complete time. But there are compromises behind positivity and smiles, there are struggles and times of weakness. Let’s be frank, there are times in which there is such a weariness and frustration only tears.
But while they spend most hours coping, the hardest is an hour every day.
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At 6:00 am, my alarm is gone. All-day. Each day. I roll over and snap and have five minutes to sleep before my ear gets the same tinny, furious ringtone again. Again, I struck snooze and we’ve been repeating the 20-minute dance move. I’m so tired that I feel that I can’t be able to sleep tomorrow, and yet my body is so anxious that I’m just desperate for a nice stretch to be up.
For individuals with fibromyalgia, mornings are notoriously hard; we wake up and feel tired, wondering how we will be able to maintain our eyes open during the day. It’s awkward to lie in bed, getting up is awkward and yet the thought is awkward. There’s so much to do. The six o’clock. Wake-up is full of fear and I often find my usual positivity searching in the midst of the fibrous fog needs energy I do not have.
As my fourth alarm comes off, I usually throw my phone on the ground and drag myself into the shower, and wonder how I’m going to maintain open my eyes on the drive. Three times in the last month, I fell asleep at the wheel, an unquestionable sign that I have to take time out and wash my mind and body, bring it into the day.
Fibromyalgia is always hard for individuals who have not experienced it either immediately or via a friend or family member. You say you’re tired of someone at 6.00 am. And they say there, too, telling you that they stayed late watching Netflix’s recent drama, and that’s what you were tired of silently desiring. Rather, when you go to bed, you feel tired and your pain is greater than the day before. When you wake, you are exhausted.
Everything’s worst when I wake at 6 a.m. The night before, I feel like I had gone to a body pump class and had a spin before bed. I feel as though my legs can snap at any moment half of the pain in my knee joints. I feel that I have fallen asleep on a cold ground of hardwood for two evenings, so I’m comfortable, my dorm is calm. I’m trying to stretch but it feels as if I’m trying to bend a plastic rule, I really can’t do it and I’m afraid I might break it if I force it. My bones are like jelly and my muscles still hit the fucking snooze button, waiting for 6 o’clock. Pain to get through.
It’s all not dooms and gloom, let’s be evident. Good days are here. There are days when I handle your health when I think that I can run the world. I have an energy burst when I leave that bath. Those are the days that I really enjoy because I understand there are a few more days of fight beside them. Overall, I suppose, I’m pretty happy the hour is six o’clock. The worst part of the day is a thing of the past at least 7 a.m.
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