Just have to vent this outta the system. I have discovered that I cannot even make the damned bed. Well, I made the bed. Last night. And today? I feel like shit and like I’ve been smacked around. Arms and shoulders are killing me, even after the Vicodin and I just don’t feel good anywhere else. So I really should not have made the bed. It involved too much pushing and pulling and lifting and wrestling sheets down over the corner of the mattress. In other words, the normal stuff you do to make a bed. Something I’ve been doing since my mother first taught me when I was about 12 or 13. And writing this has made the tears that were just under the surface come out, so that means if I want a day of relative peace, I need to take another clonipine (anti-anxiety med). Which I try not to do…
I’m angry at the fibromyalgia. I’m angry that I cannot do the normal activities of daily living, cannot take care of myself or my house without pain and having to plan it out very carefully. I am absolutely afraid of being disabled–although my beloved keeps telling me that I’m not disabled, I have a disability. Well, I don’t want it. Can I donate it to the thrift store? Sell it on Craig’s List? I would do anything to NOT have a disability. I am afraid of what my life will be with a disability. I am afraid of what it already is. If I can’t do the things I need to, if I can’t do the things I want to…where is the reason for living? And yes, I have what is euphemistically referred to as “suicidal ideation” in the psychiatry world. But I don’t have a plan, because I don’t plan on leaving my husband in any way, shape or form. So I am having to reconcile the idea that life is going to be very limited with the acknowledgement that I am going to live that life for as long as I’m supposed to.
I think it sort of comes down to this disability removes choices. I don’t care about skydiving, race car driving, learning how to play the tuba. These were not things I ever wanted to do. But to realize that there are going to be a lot of things I would have chosen to do that are no longer possible…pisses me off. I am stubborn, from a long line of very stubborn people. (One of my great(great) grandfathers, at the age of about 80, was being teased by his friends about picking up an anchor (that he had picked up when he was younger)…so he went to try and pick it up. He couldn’t, and he got so mad, and tried so hard, he had a stroke. And died. THAT’s stubborn!) Don’t tell me I can’t do something, because that’s just exactly the right way to get me to do it. Oops, probably shouldn’t have let that secret out…
I want my choices back. I want to stop hurting. I want to be ME again, not this “me with a disability” that I am. And will be. I want to be able to make a bed, do my dishes, take care of the laundry…I want to be able to work. Yes, I’d like to have a job. But there’s no way I can do anything that resembles “bringing home a paycheck” with the way my body actually is. (And we’re going for that permanent disability thing, remember?) I don’t want to spend the rest of my life having to count pennies because truthfully, a disability check may cover the necessities (I hope) but there’s no overtime available, no bonuses…so the casual buying of fripperies is out of the question. Not that I need fripperies, but a new computer once in a while…is going to have to be carefully planned for.
I have spent the last 10-12 years of my life living very frugally (on a paycheck that was half of what was considered a “necessary” income for the area I live in) so I know about thrift stores, buying on sale, and so on. Apparently this was an education to prepare me for living with a disability and on a fixed income. I didn’t ask for that diploma either. I am so angry I want to scream–except that it would scare my husband, who is still sleeping. So I think I’m screaming in my head…and I really hate the sound.
So I’ll stop here to keep the title truthful…a brief rant…it’s a bad day, don’t take this too seriously, it will pass because it always does. I think we will go swimming today for sure.
Keep on swimming, keep on swimming, swimming, swimming…..