Breathe in. Breathe out.

The carousel never stops. Life is like that. It doesn't stop to say "sorry",   "excuse me for messing up your plans" or even "hope you can handle this pile of garbage I just gave you."

I have been bitter for far too long. Bitter that my children's childhood has been stained for me. Bitter that my normal is a regular persons sick day. Bitter that my days are about choices and balance and picking and choosing what I can or CANNOT do.  Bitter that a family vacation comes with a long list of necessary items just to not end up in the hospital. Bitter that when I say "I'm ok"  I'm almost always lying and under this made-up face,  I simply wish people knew how I really felt. 

But that's not how I want to be remembered. I don't want to be the one who couldn't see the beauty surrounding me. In the funk I've so fiercely simmered in the last two days, it has left me with eyes wide open. Yes, I have limitations. Yes, I want to do more than I can. Yes, my life is different. But I am above ground and not below it. I am breathing and even though sometimes even that hurts, my heart is still beating. Despite the uncountable times this heart has been broken for whatever reason, it keeps beating. I'm taking a lesson from this heart. It just keeps going. And even though at times it lets everyone know that some things just aren't right, it doesn't give up just because it had a bad day. That's how I hope to be remembered. Not willing to ever give up and at least trying to smile through the pain. 

So for now I'll breathe in, breathe out, and enjoy the fact that I can watch my babies grow and love them until they cannot stand it. 

For in this moment, this is the carousel I'm riding. 

When the day bleeds tears.

Sometimes the darkness becomes so thick that the sunshine is left fighting in the shadows to be seen.

Sometimes my head becomes so filled with unnecessary thoughts that it pushes the relevant ones out. 

Sometimes the days are so short, leaving the nights to drag on and on. 

Sometimes the pain in my heart simply makes no sense, yet there it lives. 

Sometimes on days like today, I wake up feeling ok. As evening approaches and my fatigue is more than real, I am grasping to retain some sanity. I'm striving to hold on to the kindness my heart yearns to give, but by this time my kindness is clouded by the pain. Both in my figurative heart and in my physical body. 

The day has brought many unexpected surprises. Two little girls that are, for whatever reason, insanely needy for their mother. What is it exactly? Do they sense something? I am good at putting on a face, real good. Unless you are the one man in my life who holds the key to my heart, and the matching ring to my finger - you likely won't know anything is up if I don't want you to. But today my neck is throbbing, my head reminds me of it's presence by the random knocking pain and my elbows feel like someone is stabbing a razor sharp knife through them. Yet my babies are sucking the last bit of energy that I have out of the marrow of my bones. And I am happy to give it.  But at some point, I'm not going to have anything left to give. And that is scary. When will that point come? 

Right now I would be happy to lay face down on the ground and not move a muscle while listening to the wallflowers "one headlight" blasting in the background, so I can feel comforted by someone else's emotions poured out in the form of a song that has moved me since I was a teenager. 

But I can't. Life must go on. The smiles must be smiled, the tears forced back, and the mommy mode on in full fashion...... Well, "with one headlight." 

"There has got to be something better than in the middle" , where I am presently stuck. Stuck and sinking in the mud that is so dirty that I am left suffocating in it's lather. My insides yearn to be so much more but my body commands something else, leaving my brain to over think every possible thing. At what point will it stop tormenting me? 

Someday it will happen. Someday. 

Acceptance has begun.

You may know me from growing up together. Or maybe you know me from more recent times. Perhaps you don't know me at all and have just stumbled on my blog by chance, maybe by the fact that we have something in common. Either way, there may be things you don't know about me, because I am still trying to figure it out myself. Each day that I wake up, starts off with a big question mark running through my mind. What is it going to be like today? Will I feel my age for once? Or will I continue down the painful path of feeling 70 before I'm even 30? Before I even make my first move in the morning,I start to dread what will become of it. Will I hurt today? Some days I fumble out of bed, find my way downstairs to my first cup of coffee, and the day begins without a hitch. And then some days, I practically fall back asleep while drinking my second cup of coffee, struggle to simply make it through an average day, only to collapse into my bed again.

A few years ago one of my doctors said to me, "I don't want to say you have fibromyalgia before I know you really do, because so many people shape their lives around having it." I appreciated that comment at the time..... There was no way I was going to become one of those people. I just wanted answers. If fibromyalgia was what I had, I would be happy with the diagnoses and able to move on with life. --- or would I? Well, 5 years later after many, many doctors and second opinions, they all agree that for now, I have fibromyalgia.

I was a brand new mom, my baby girl was only 7 months old. I had my issues, but things that were passing. I had surgery two months before for a large ovarian cyst that had twisted my fallopian tubes. Right before my surgery, we bought and moved into our first home. One month after my surgery, my husband was diagnosed with a brain cyst after a scary visit to the ER. So I suppose one could say, I experienced some of life's most stressful events, all within a few short months.I have tried to re-live those few months over and over again in my head, questioning what exactly put my body over the edge. Was it the surgery or the medications used? Was it the fact that I recently had a baby and was dealing with obviously messed up hormones? Was it the extreme stress I felt when I wasn't sure of my husbands future? But even after all those questions are asked, there is nothing I could do to change the past. If I could go back in time, I couldn't avoid the surgery that I desperately needed, I couldn't change the fact that my husband had an unknown arachnoid brain cyst likely from childhood, and I definitely would never change having our first child, or buying our simple little home where we still raising our little girls.
So clearly stuck in the past, I needed to move forward. But moving forward, meant accepting what they say I have, and figuring out how to live with it. With that being said, acceptance has been a difficult journey for me........but figuring out how to live a normal life is a ongoing process.

Now a mom of two and still under 30, on my difficult days happiness comes slowly. Bitter at times, looking behind at who I use to be, leaves me weak when looking forward. And that is what I struggle with on a day to day basis. Just trying to be normal. Just trying to feel good. Trying to stay positive. Pretending to feel good for my family, for my husband who worries, and for my girls who should have a normal 29 year old mother.

This is the attempt to not let fibromyalgia define who I am as a person.
I am not the disease, I am so much more than that. I can do this.