STILL STRESSED AFTER ALL THESE YEARS

Can we ever be stress free?

Not in this life.

I always thought that my body thrived on stress. As amazing as that sounds, I really thought that I was at my best when under pressure. I had no idea what I was doing to myself.

What does happen during stressful situations?

What happens is your body goes into the "flight or fight syndrome." Your liver produces more glucose for energy for your muscles. Your body produces cortisol which suppresses the immune system. Your blood pressure rises.  Adrenaline is secreted so your body is ready for action. A body full of adrenaline can do superhuman feats. 

You are now "in the stress zone."

Actually, you're in survival mode.

Cortisol is produced in the adrenal cortex in the adrenal gland.  In small amounts it can heighten memory functions, lower sensitivity to pain, help maintain your internal equilibrium and give you a burst of energy. However, at its height, stress hormones are released into the body in an unprecedented rate. 

When your body perceives that threat the nervous system responds by sending hormones into the body. You are on alert. Your muscles tighten, your heart beats faster, all your senses become sharper, your blood pressure rises and you breathe a little faster. It is your bodies was of protecting you. 

So what if we live life in the fast lane?

Chronic stress is different than the momentary flight or fight stress. Chronic stress changes the way the body functions because we don't flip the switch that turns the flood of hormones off in our body. The heart can become more susceptible to disease from the constant flow of cortisol. Brain function can be compromised and learning and memory can also be altered. The immune system is suppressed. 

If you don't switch it off your body doesn't have the opportunity to return to normal.

When the stress that you're under is greater than your body can tolerate you become more at risk for stress related disorders.

The body doesn't differentiate between physical and emotional stress. Stress is stress. When you keep yourself in stress mode it becomes harder and harder to shut off the switch. That stress I thought I thrived on? It's that Type A personality that prides itself in its ability to be super person. 

Stress morphs itself into that old familiar warm and fuzzy bathrobe. It feels good to put on because its just too hard to become laid back but the price you pay for that warm and fuzzy feeling is very high. Very high. Over-achieving and perfectionist is what it is. You don't sleep right, you don't eat right and you think you're cruising through life.....

Until.

Anxiety, depression, insomnia, heart problems, immune problems, autoimmune problems or worse. Make no mistake. Stress can kill. 

Put the effects of stress together with a central nervous system dysfunction that is found in Fibromyalgia and you have a recipe for disaster. We have to find a way to breathe through the stress. Do whatever it takes because we have to. Try yoga, aromatherapy, acupuncture, massage, biofeedback.....anything.....going outdoors and looking at the sky......whatever it takes to relax.

Thrive on stress? 

Nope.

It just makes us worse for the wear.

And it just isn't worth it.

BURNING THE CANDLE AT BOTH ENDS

I always thought I thrived on stress.

I was wrong.

So what is the HPA Axis?

The HPA axis is the relationship between the hypothalamus, the pituitary and adrenal glands. Research is showing that people with Chronic Fatigue and/or Fibromyalgia have a real problem in this area.

The hypothalamus is at the base of the brain. It controls body temperature, hunger, thirst, mood, your sex drive and your sleep. The pituitary gland is also at the base of the brain. It controls our metabolism, blood pressure and stress response. The adrenals are at the top of the kidneys. They produce cortisol, adrenalin and norepinephine. 

So basically dysfunction in this area causes low body temperature, digestion problems, problems in the immune system, problems with energy and problems in the response to stress trauma or injury and pain and those are just the highlights.

Does this sound familiar?

The stress response is the body protecting you. I loved the feeling of flight or fight and lived that way on a daily basis. It was more powerful than any drug. I was typical Type A and thought that was the way to really live. If I wasn't going at mach two with my hair on fire then I felt like a wimp. What is interesting is that many of the women I worked with in new home sales now suffer from Fibromyalgia. I don't think it's a coincidence either. We lived under high pressure, long hours and high intensity. The stress was unbelievable. What I didn't realize was that I was burning myself out. I don't think any of use had a clue what was happening to our bodies.  

So what came first?

The chicken or the egg?

I'm not saying that any of us who are Type A personalities did this to ourselves. Did we have problems in this axis to begin with and then the stress just exacerbated the symptoms? Or did the stress and trauma put too much pressure on these glands and they weren't able to deal with it?

I remember the feeling. My muscles would tighten and my heart would beat faster. It seems like your senses are sharper. What I interpreted as daily living was my bodies way of protecting me. It would enable me to rise to the challenge of survival. 

I was in survival mode.

To the max.

When the stress is greater than the body is able to tolerate you are at risk for a stress related disorder. The heart becomes more susceptible to disease because of the increased cortisol and adrenaline in your already compromised system. The body doesn't differentiate between physical and emotional stress. Stress is stress.

If chronic stress can rewire the brain then I must be really screwed up. The body needs to shut off the switch and therein lies the problem. The stress felt so normal for so long that it tends to give you a warm, fuzzy feeling but the price that you pay for that over-achieving, perfectionist, familiar feeling is a very heavy toll on your system. 

You've basically put a big bulls eye on your back.

And back then I still didn't pay attention.

I pay attention now.

RAINY DAYS AND MONDAYS ALWAYS GET ME DOWN

I just can't seem to catch a break.

It's raining again.

Ow.

I feel like my whole life is on hold again. I just don't want to do anything when the pain level is going past voodoo. On a scale from one to ten, I just blew past 11. For some reason the last few days have been REAL BAD. I'll bet they can hear the howl on the other side of the valley.

I had to run out to Williams Sonoma (yeah, tough errand) and I got some cooking clay for chicken. My daughter and I have fond memories of this clay pot that I'd make dinner in and now she can play with clay herself. I didn't want to go out at all. I dropped it off at her house, smiling like I didn't have a care in the world, and came home and got into bed.

And I didn't leave it.

I'm feeling fragmented and raw again. There's something about pain that puts me right back into feeling "not good enough." I tried walking on the treadmill but after stopping every two to three minutes, I just gave up. The problem is that I set a goal for myself. I'm typical Type A squared and it feels like I'm falling short of the high standards that I set for myself. I'm so self-critical and I'm tired of having impossibly high standards that I fail to reach.

Why am I doing this to myself again?

I'm starting to go into think mode and that's a dangerous place for me to be. I analyze, over analyze, over analyze it again, beat it into the ground, bury it, resurrect it and then start the process all over again. 

See?

I even drive myself crazy.

What is it about pain that starts the regression? Is it the pain or the realization that it will always be with me? Last night about 3 o'clock I was awake and praying that I could find a baseball bat to take to my legs and praying that the roller coaster would stop and I could get off. I can't describe this sensation except that it's like a spring tightening until it almost breaks and then it lets go. The trouble is that it keeps doing that over and over again. That doesn't even count what my hands are doing. 

I've used the essential oils, been in the jetted tub, I've rubbed Topricin on my legs, I've taken the pain medication and muscle relaxers.........zip, nada, zilch.

I think I'm just tired.

And there are pretty puffy clouds forecast for the next few days.

I keep looking around for the license number of that truck that hit me again.

Ow......

Ow..........

Ow........

PRAISE THE LORD AND PASS THE OXYCODONE

It's humid.

I hurt.

I've tried everything.

I hope I don't sound like I'm being flip about the Lord. That wasn't my intention when I decided to write this post. It's just that I've tried just about everything, including prayer, but the pain is spiraling out of control. Las Vegas, in the summer, is like living three inches away from the sun. Even if you like the heat, which I don't, when the thermometer reads 117 you start to melt. Just point your hair dryer at your face and you've got a pretty good idea what it feels like.

Then.

The extreme heat starts to abate a little bit and the monsoon season hits. The temperature is somewhat livable but the humidity starts to creep up to 30% and above and I feel every degree of that movement. My body doesn't do well in this type of weather. Why does the weather affect my body so much? I used to laugh at people that said their arthritis would act up and they knew it was going to rain. Let me tell you, I don't laugh anymore. Is it because our bodies have a high water content? Is that why we're affected by atmospheric conditions? All I know is that my body feels like it's going into rigor mortis and it's not a pleasant feeling.  I've thought about massage but the thought of anyone touching me right now is enough to make me scream. It's a triad of heat, humidity and PAIN.

So let me give you the current weather forecast:

Cloudy and humid with rapidly developing whining, crying and complaining.

So this means that I take the pain medication before the "ow" that I now feel becomes a resonating howl that can be heard throughout the valley. I have tried to keep positive thoughts and talk myself out of the pain but you can't talk yourself out of chronic pain no matter what some people say. I only wish it were that simple. The only thing you can do is find the way to best manage your life so that you can deal with the life sentence you were handed.

Then.

Let's throw in some stress.

Stress doesn't help things at all and tomorrow will be a stress filled day. I have a lot to do and coupled with the humidity it's going to be a barometric free-for-all kind of day. Not pretty at all and I'm not looking forward to it. I won't feel guilty that I can't manage to find a zen place and talk myself out of this pain. I have read all the books that tell me I can cure Fibromyalgia by supplements and by positive thoughts. I will take it one day at a time and do what I can do for me; not for what others tell me I can do. I realize that I am a Type A personality and nothing I can do will turn me into a Type B and my management of this illness needs to be tailored to my personality. 

I just can't be accepting and meek about this illness. 

I really do admire people that wouldn't recognize stress if it jumped up and bit them. 

They just go with the flow and life's a song. 

My songs?

Let's try Running on Empty........

Or maybe Crash and Burn.........

I'll let you know tomorrow.

BORED.

I'm bored.

Nothing to do.

Bored.

I've written about this before. I need to re-invent myself and find something to do. Ever since the accident I've been limited physically and the subsequent Fibromyalgia just pushed me over the edge. Pain tends to make me a little bit of a recluse and yes, I'm being sarcastic. I think that's what is really bugging me. I'm feeling isolated.

So what to do?

I was speaking with an old friend from high school. He told me to put together a business plan just to get my mind moving again. That doesn't sound too bad but I keep coming back full circle. Even if my mind could pull a plan together, what kind of plan should I execute? 

So what to do?

I've never been the type to sit around and do nothing. That probably has something to do with the Fibromyalgia as well. Typical Type A personality crap. All I want to do is feel productive. I miss new home sales. I realize that I can't go back to it but I need to find something that I love equally as much. 

So what to do? 

Well, I like to write and I like to sell. I like to be an influence on people's lives. That's not too difficult is it? 

Yes, it is.

So I'm back to being bored. The weather has been cold and humid. By this weekend the temperature will fluctuate approximately 30 degrees so the pain will be having a real field day with my body. 

Great.

Bored.

Tired of watching TV.

In pain.

Can't sleep.

What's next?

WALK ONE MORE MILE IN MY SHOES

May 12.

It's Fibromyalgia Awareness Day.

Let's go for a walk.

We're invisible and we wear our cloak of invisibility like a dark shroud around our shoulders. It's distinctively different from the smile that masks a life full of pain. On the one hand we treasure our invisibility because we wouldn't want the outside to look like we do on the inside. On the other hand, we are not to be believed because we just don't look that bad.

To anyone else, that is.

After all, what is pain? 

It's no big deal, really. We are supposed to suck it up and not be such a wuss. Pain equals weakness and weakness is hated. For those of us who were Type A squared, the loss of control that has accompanied this illness has almost been as devastating as the illness itself. To top it all off, we don't know if we'll ever get it back. This illness takes a vital, ambitious and, excuse the language, balls to the wall woman and turns her into something that can't remember why she walked into a room. Everything that used to be precious to her life; her career, her mental acumen, her body and her confidence in herself and her abilities, are now a vague recollection. Even when you can remember all it does is make you cry for the person you used to be.

Can anyone understand that the tears we cry are not only for pain but for the endless frustration that we feel? We have a myriad of symptoms that are dismissed by doctors. Medications are hit and miss and most of them have side effects that are worse than the pain we feel. We've tried anti-depressants and anti-seizure medications. We've tried the opiates. We've tried muscle relaxers. We've tried vitamins, acupuncture and massage. If we complain too much, we're neurotic. If we try to keep it too ourselves, well, we must not really feel that bad.

How do you tell someone that you really miss the life you used to have? A life that was pain free and a life that could be lived without worrying about the inevitable crash to come? How do you express your pain in a way that's not dismissive and not pitied, but believed? How do convey the fact that you're not wallowing in your pain but that it is your reality and you're really doing the best you can to live with it?

How do we ourselves understand the new crop of symptoms that seem to appear daily? For some it's sensitivity to smells, noise or chemicals. For others it might be a mysterious ache or pain that suddenly appears in a different part of our body. How do we know what is going on in our bodies? We can't have a doctor on speed dial and we fear looking foolish, even to ourselves. Our body seems to be betraying us and we just can't seem to get a handle on it. We feel overwhelmed and then feel stupid because what we used to handle would cause most people to burn out quickly.

We feel isolated even around our dearest friends and family. Chronic pain loves to play with our  emotions and it plays us like the virtuoso that it is. We doubt our bodies and ourselves. The confidence that we had with life is now diminished so that we don't even recognize the person we've become. Sometimes even we believe the bad press;  think we are whiners and if we'd just get up and move around we'd feel better. 

Our brains are in a constant state of fog. The overpowering fatigue and pain. Imagine living with the worst flu you've ever had and then imagine that it NEVER goes away. Year, after year, after year. How do you think you'd feel given that life sentence? Yes, there are good days but good days mean the edge is off the pain and fatigue. It never really goes away. Your body has limitations and we've learned to listen.


When will researchers try to figure out why the switch was flipped?  I feel that this is a neurological disorder. Where others feel a touch, we feel pain. There is too much Substance P (this heightens the awareness to pain) in our spinal fluid. We have abnormally high levels of glutamate (and excitatory neurotransmitter) which means our neurotransmitters are on overdrive. Our internal amplifier is turned up full blast.  In other words, THERE IS SOMETHING WRONG.

Let's also not forget the sleep disorder that is also one of the lovely symptoms of Fibromyalgia. Alpha wave intrusion. The nice, sweet sounding term for our "awake" brain waves that keep saying hello to us in the middle of the night so that deep, restorative sleep is an impossibility. The fatigue we experience is overpowering, however, we cannot find the sleep that our body so desperately needs. Our brains will not allow it.


There are lists and lists of symptoms. There are the intestinal woes, thyroid and other hormonal issues. Even I look at the list and think it's no wonder people think we're crazy. I haven't even touched on the emotional issues that are inevitable when you live with chronic pain. 

It's so difficult to find the acceptance we crave. On one hand we do accept our physical and emotional limitations but one the other we keep fighting. We are the wounded warriors that want to fight the good fight until this illness is defeated. 

But sometimes we can't.


Sometimes it just hurts too much.


And sometimes we're just too, too tired.

A DIFFERENT KIND OF TEA PARTY

Courtesy of Stuff No One Told Me

What am I afraid of?

Sometimes, just myself.

I don't want to face my fears.

I would like to meet and understand them.

Facing my fears sounds like I want to annihilate them. I don't really. One of the hallmarks of my personality is the need for control. I don't like nasty surprises and I will do anything to avoid them. Part of my brain says if I can control my environment I will avoid some of the pitfalls that occur in daily life. I guess it's just part of my Type A squared personality. So continuing on in that vein, I really don't want to give up my need for control. I just want to understand why I do it and then maybe ease up......just a bit. 

Does the control factor really help me avoid the pitfalls?

No.


My other fear is walking into a dark house. I will not turn off all the lights to save the power bill. No fricking way! I have to leave the lights on so that I will not walk into a dark room. Don't ask me what happened. I have no idea. All I know is that if all the lights are out someone else is going in that house first. However, back to control...........


The control factor, or loss thereof, is probably my biggest fear. For example, I've hated to fly for so long because of that very issue of control. I was in a real, real bad flight coming back from San Diego and that pretty much flipped the switch on that one. I didn't want to be 30,000 feet up in a cigar tube and find out the pilot had lost control of the plane. 


I don't like chronic illness because I've lost control of my body and I don't know what symptom or problem is going to strike next. You'd think I wouldn't like to drive because of the car accident but that's not true at all. It's the car accident caused the lack of control with chronic illness.  Weird, how we react to different things. You would think that I'd realize that life itself has no controls but I haven't gotten that through my thick head yet. 


Control issues cause a great deal of stress. I still haven't figured out a balance between my Type A (squared) and a Type B personality. I want to strike a balance in my old age. I just don't know how to find it. It's just this blasted Type A personality. Even at an early age it came out with my records and shoes. It came out with me trying to exercise control over situations and my body. The infamous potato chip fiasco comes to mind. Why my mother EVER let me carry a glass bowl filled with ANYTHING is beyond me. Grace was not my middle name; it still isn't. Anyway, I was carrying this glass bowl and tripped. Potato chips flying, people hysterical, blood everywhere and all I want is "to see me bleed." Everyone else was out of control, but me? Not only no, but hell no. Oh, by the way, I was four.


I think we are born with certain traits and life experiences bring them to the forefront. A loss of control makes me feel imperfect and weak. I hate that! I shouldn't use the word imperfect; maybe, what I'm realizing is that I'm not as strong as I like to think I am. I truly am an imperfect being and imperfect means to fail. It's the bar that I set for myself and it's a bar that can never truly be reached. I can count every single one of my imperfections and I hate that too. All of these little issues makes me realize that I can't count on myself physically and sometimes even count on myself emotionally.


I would like to get to a point where I joy in the imperfections. There can be a beauty in something that is imperfect. We can see it in everything but ourselves. Instead of seeing joy in our uniqueness and imperfections,  we hate every single one of them and wish to exercise control over them. The quest of perfection isn't a destination because whatever we find will ultimately never be good enough. We will never have control over them.


So when I happen to open a closet door and cautiously peek around the corner to meet my fear face to face realize I'm not going in there with great guns. 


I'm more or less going to ask them to tea.

IT'S JUST MY IMAGINATION

I always believed that I could do anything.

I always believed that I could be anything.

I just never believed my life would be

what it is now.

Where is the little girI, the teen and the woman who would use her imagination and dreams? I  remember little things. I think it started years and years ago when I'd walk in the room and my father would sing, "here she is, Miss America!"  I always believed in myself and my abilities. If I wanted something bad enough, I'd get it and I was not afraid of the work involved. I was self confident and unafraid. 

I don't know what happened to her. 

Little by little imagination and dreams drift away. 

I look at pictures of myself over the last 10 years. There was a lot of smiles and happiness. Then all of a sudden, the pictures start changing a couple of years ago. The progression of pain is evident and if I can see it in photographs what do people see face to face? 

It's very difficult to find your dreams in the midst of physical pain. When your central nervous system is on hyper-drive it's hard to think of anything else. I've often wondered how to make the best of this Fibro situation. I've tried to think of some way to occupy my time as well as my mind. 


It's hard to go from Type A squared to a Type B. I've always admired people that wouldn't know stress if it jumped up and bit them. They could go with the flow and nothing seemed to get to them. I thought it would be kind of cool to adjust my thinking and lifestyle and incorporate that philosophy into my daily life. I know it would be better for me in the long run. On the other hand,  these were the people that drove, walked and talked too slow. Just thinking about it makes me want to gnash my teeth. They took out their checkbook and started writing it after everything had been rung up at the store. I mean, don't you know that you'll have to pay for it? Why start at the last minute? Everything is at a much slower pace. 


And that isn't me.
See what I mean?
Did I really say I thought it would be cool?
Ha!


If I can't go back to high pressure situations, what can I do so I don't feel like a lump of doo-doo? In my mind it was either all or nothing and I chose all.  My motto was work hard, play hard and rest hard. If anything was worth doing it was worth doing 150%.  I hate sitting around and I'm running out of things to do. Not going 200 miles per hour on a daily basis makes me feel useless.

The days turn into weeks, turn into months then turn into years. I need to find something that brings my brain back. I need to imagine and dream again. I get sick of hearing myself say this over and over again but when I try to start the process the harsh realities come flooding in and dreams go out the window. 

I want my life back. I know it will be different than before and I'm starting to get that and adjust. I don't like it but I'm starting to get it. I just get so tired of looking at my four walls. I need to get out and start using my camera. I just need to get out of my house. How do you do this when your body hurts? I'm willing to move through pain; but, as I write this, I think it's the joy that I miss most of all. Anyone can move around through pain but where is the absolute joy of each day? I can't seem to get past the pain and into the joy. I can't seem to reach a point of acceptance so I can move on. 

Can someone give me any ideas?

I'm open to suggestions.

THYROID AND FIBRO AND WHISKERS ON KITTENS

These are a few of my favorite things..........

I have slowly come to the realization that if my body isn't happy I won't be either.

It has been an icky day. I've been looking in the mirror and that isn't healthy for my psyche. It started when my daughter went to the endocrinologist. She had an appointment this morning because she's starting to display the lovely symptoms that I have. Apparently, this thyroid crapola which includes the Autoimmune Hashimoto's Thyroiditis (which I will abbreviate to AHT because I hate typing that out for some reason) and hypothyroidism is inherited from the maternal side of the family. Lucky her, huh? Well, lucky me as well because my mother must have had issues with her thyroid. I don't know much about my medical history so that is the first concrete piece of evidence that I've ever had.

Anyway she got on the scale at the doctor's office and flipped out. She's texting while she's sitting in the room waiting for the doctor telling me her weight and she feels like she wants to throw up (figuratively, of course)! She hates her hips and thighs. Anything over 125 really depresses her and it was over that number.  Let me give you a visual. My daughter has very healthy eating habits. She works out with both strength and cardio routines several times a week. She should be a twig and she's been struggling with weight gain. I can understand part of my weight gain because of age, inactivity and the thyroid but her? She should be a twig. Then there's the hair issues. She's losing eyelashes and the ends of her eyebrows. Yep, that's a sign but I think I'd rather continue with that than the hair loss I've got. Funny, I can lose hair on parts of my body........I have very little hair on my legs and arms........but do you think that would also apply to my chin? Or to my upper lip?


No. Not only no, but hell no.

Part of the legacy that I've passed on are body image issues that plagues most of the female population. We cannot handle imperfections in our body when it comes to dress size. We don't care if the average size is a 12. Truly, I couldn't care less. I want to be 115 like I was before. I don't like the way I look and that influences how I feel about myself. My daughter is the same way. She stands in front of the mirror and places her hands on her hips to shave off a few inches.  She wants smart lipo on her hips and then she'll be happy.

I hate to tell her that isn't the case. 

The day quickly comes that instead of hands on the hips will progress to hands on her face to see how many years can be shaved off if the turkey neck was gone. The swan-like grace that was once a profile has now become the gobbler. Again, body image and self image are all tied up in this neat little package. For me it's not an age thing. I don't mind laugh lines and I don't mind crows feet. I figure I've earned them. I wouldn't want to look all pulled and tortured trying to look 20 again. I don't want to look that young, I just don't want this fricking turkey neck.

So on the age issues let's add weight, thyroid, back injury, chronic fatigue and fibromyalgia. Sounds like a lovely package, doesn't it?

I really hate this crap today. I hate that my daughter has to go through this as well. I hate watching her hate her body because I know she got that from me. I hate the fact that watching her set me off too. I hate the fact that I don't have my life back and I hate constantly hurting. I hate the weather report because more rain is coming. I am just so tired of feeling like crap. I am so tired of wondering what I'm going to do with my life. I am so tired of mourning for what I had and grieving for what I've become. I'm tired of feeling like death warmed over. 

I just want a day where I don't look at the things I need to do in my house and letting another day go by because I just don't have the energy to get it done. I would like to exercise and walk instead of feeling like I've got lead weights on my legs.  I'd like to get a hug that was a real one instead of the pretend ones I get because it hurts. I'd like to clean my house without having to stop and rest. I'd like to run the vacuum without hurting. I'd like to know that on the days when my attitude isn't in the toilet that it would actually mean something to my physical well being. I'd like to look in the mirror and not hate what I see.

My girlfriend has a saying.............

Golden years, my ass.

TRIP THE FIRST DOMINO

The humidity is still between 55 and 65%. I'm so sick of writing and whining about the weather. I wish it would change but I can't do anything about it. I'd love to wave a magic wand and change the weather to something more tolerable. While I'm at it I'd love to wave that wand over my whole life. Well, not my WHOLE life....just the health and financial section of it. Right now, that part really sucks.

I met with an attorney for my long term disability today. I finally felt some sort of validation. For the first time I didn't have to explain myself. To my amazement, he explained me to me. He understood and offered a glimmer of hope.  I wasn't sure I wanted to go the attorney route but fighting insurance companies takes everything out of you. I finally got to the point where I felt that I could relinquish control because of the simple fact that they are competent. In a city where there are flakes galore I found a firm that understands Fibromyalgia, insurance companies and the steps that need to be taken to finalize this mess. So now I have to be patient and wait this out. I guess I've waited this long so what's a few more months or six.

So now it's time to trip the domino. First to deal with the disability and then the car accident that seemed to start this fiasco. You see, that is one of the things that impressed me about the attorney I saw today. He didn't look surprised about the car accident. That lovely little car accident that took away my controlled little life and sent it spiraling into the chaotic world of doctors, attorney's, tests and pain management. They didn't seem surprised by that at all. To top it off, they gave me all the information on the support group for Fibromyalgia in Las Vegas. Tomorrow, I start trying to make contact with them. I can get involved and get the support that is needed with this illness.

So here I am getting on this roller coaster ride again. The ride that is thrilling but also makes you want to throw up. As long as I can see the light at the end of the tunnel I can bear getting back on this ride. I'm tired of keeping volumes of paperwork that includes all of my medical files. Oh, that's the other thing. I brought in one of my binders and he looked at me and said, "oh, another Type A personality with Fibromyalgia. I'll bet you've been this way all of your life, haven't you?" 

Bingo.

I SHOULD GIVE ZANAFLEX A FAIR SHOT

So much for Zanaflex.

I should be fair and give it at least a week but being my Typical Type A self and an immediate gratification freak, I want it to help me NOW.

So here I am awake, muscles cramping, humidity rising and pain building to an unbelievable crescendo and the Zanaflex isn't kicking in yet. I have to wait to take the pain medication so I thought I'd write for awhile.

Fibromyalgia sucks.

There are some characteristics we are born with. I've had perfectionistic tendencies all my life. I remember having my shoes placed in my closet by colors before I even started school. I drove my mother crazy by not wanting my foods to touch on the plate otherwise I wouldn't eat it. My makeshift home Dewey Decimal system.......the list goes on and on. If I'd known that my quest for order and perfection would lead to the pain I'm in today I think my life would have been different.

Did it really matter if my spices were in alphabetical order? Did it matter that video tapes and DVD's still follow that pattern? I am so much better than I used to be but some habits are hard to break.

I know in my head that the cortisol and adrenaline that must constantly be running through my system is BAD but that's me. Again, I'm a great deal better than I used to be but there are some things that just won't change.

No Help in LIfe.

It also doesn't help when you're unemployed. It doesn't help when disability denies you. It really doesn't help when you're used to making a fair amount of  money and you've drained your accounts dealing with an invisible illness that just loves to make your life chaotic.

I can live with a marginal amount of  pain. I've been doing that for years. When pain is coupled with insomnia and the pain is no longer marginal, that is a little tough to deal with in a cheerful manner.

Well for now I'll try to be patient and give the Zanaflex an opportunity to work.

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