Hope is Possible

I really just want to share something. My husband is military and was unexpectedly out of communication for a while, that while being over Mother’s Day. Leading up to and over Mother’s Day it seemed like everyone I knew was announcing they were expecting and, while I was happy for them, it was a little heart-wrenching because my husband had always wanted a whole gaggle of kids and that’s just not something I could physically give him. 

I wrote him a short email basically just saying I wish I could be/give him everything he wanted in life and out of the blue I get a response back: “what more could I ever ask for?”. 
Instantaneous balling. We have had so many struggles with the fibromyalgia and other health concerns that my body just blew up with starting 4 yrs ago that to hear him say that meant more than anything in the world.

We have had some drop-dead serious arguments about my “illness” and whether it was real or not, that I just needed to find a doctor who could fix me, to even talking about divorce because he felt like he couldn’t deal with me not being who he married.

Despite all the fights we still loved each other and still wanted it to work and have been trying so hard to work to make it work.

I know not everyone gets “happy endings” but this little bit of hope is out there. It’s possible. It’s possible for someone to love me as who I am now. 

Things I’ve Realized

I’ve realized a few things this week…

  • I don’t spend as much time with friends who knew me before my fibro “fully activated,” not just because they don’t understand how I could be so different but because of the constant reminder they are of how I used to be.
  • I am afraid to make plans or plan for more than one event in a day because I don’t know how exhausted I’ll be.
  • At this point, I blame myself for not being the parent I want to be more than the kids hold it against me. Something about the wisdom of children…
  • Things with my husband are difficult because, in lots of ways, he blames not just me for being sick, but also himself for not being able to “make me better”.
  • Every time something goes wrong, I have kind of a catastrophic response. Not because it feels like this “one more” thing is the end of the world but because every one more thing feels like the end of the world. It’s not just the culmination of everything but the individual things feel big, too. It didn’t use to be this way.
  • My initial reaction since I was a child was to believe that it was my fault, even if it was something beyond my control. This has had me adding so much more stress to my life than there really should be. It’s not just a boundaries issue but a self-expectation issue, too.
  • I’ve always been idealistic, not accepting things as they are but striving for things to be as they should be. While this is healthy, to a degree, it also ties in with unrealistic self-expectations. I can’t keep expecting myself to do what I used to be able to do, I need to accept what I can do now and gently, gently, work towards improving upon that and not stop trying to get back to what I used to be. You can’t progress backward.
  • I need to reach out to people who understand my situation. For those who are family and don’t understand I need to stop running from them so much and try, I don’t know, giving them a pamphlet or something to help them understand. The best thing would be to let them see how it affects me, but only those with an open mind would understand that way. The pain, the exhaustion, so much of it is invisible, but I need to try to help those that want to understand.

One Week Gone

This past week has been a really difficult one… ended up in the ER again, which caused so many problems, and we’ve had problems with housing, and the owner of the dog we’re dogsitting (it went from 6months to who knows when the fuck they’re going to pick him up if they pick him up), to other doctor and health stuff, and family stuff, and spouse stuff. Just one hell of a hell of a week.

The kids and I cuddled up to watch Beauty and the Beast last night, which led to them singing Tale As Old As Time while in bed. Such a happy memory after such an unhappy week. I’m glad the weekend is here and that my kids are having one of their “get along” days thus far. I seriously just need lots and lots of cuddles right now.

Once everything has calmed down I’m going to be starting some new fibromyalgia meds, so I’m pretty nervous and excited about that. My psychologist gave me some homework, in chatting about what had been going on this past week with her she said I reminded her of “Sebastian and the Magic Pebble” and “Brave Irene”. While Sebastian drew a blank, Brave Irene sounded slightly familiar, but I’ve googled them up and am going to read some digital copies of these children’s books I reminded her of. Hopefully, they’ll be encouraging to my “I overthink everything” brain. lol

Part of me feels really overwhelmed, part of me is feeling stubborn and driven, and part of me is just lost. Same old, same old. I’m sleeping better, which is a huge plus.

Thank you, Blank Page, for listening and letting me filter stuff. Thank you, any readers who have continued to keep up with me despite my chaotic and overly emotional postings.

I am continuing to hope for the best and prepare for the worst. I refuse to just give up and let this disease win, to let Life win, but I am also trying so carefully to abide by the new boundaries my body has set up for/against me. I am trying to heal, I am trying to build strength, and I am trying to be better.