I cursed it's name...

It began about 2 months ago. I began having trouble with words. I could see the word, spell the word but I just couldn't say the word, I just couldn't get the word from my brain out my mouth. It would happen from time to time, them from day to day, hour to hour then I couldn't even remember my husband's name.

I began to wake up in the middle of the night in pain. Each time I would move my muscles would freeze. My vision became blurry, my balance off, muscle spasms started when I awoke and continued for hours. My skin felt as though I had been dropped into a deep fryer.

Walking, talking, thinking, just being me, became a struggle that took all of my energy and tested my faith. I cursed it's name. I didn't want anyone to know about it. I am ashamed of what is happening to my body.

I have fibromyalgia.

Am I crazy?

Depressed?

Looking for attention?

Lazy?

I have asked myself these questions over and over. After seeing specialist after specialist I was finally diagnosed, it had a name but no treatment plan. 

So I began a journey of drugs, more drugs, less drugs, different drugs, tai chi, yoga, meditation, exercise, diets, shots, and anything else that someone recommended.

My symptoms were all over the place, unable to find a pattern or treatment plan, we just kept trying.

Then I found a drug named Cymbalta and it worked, the pain subsided, my short term memory improved greatly, my coordination also improved. I quit dropping things, tripping over curbs, bumping into furniture, I could remember people's names and where things were, I even began to sleep more than 3 hours a night. I got my life back.

Until the side effects. After two years of living a comfortable and happy life, I developed bleeding ulcers in my mouth and had to stop taking it.

Now that ugly fibromyalgia is back, full blown again, and I struggle to write, walk, and remember your name. My skin burns, my fingers, elbows and neck ache and freeze, my vision is blurred. 

My brain is in a fog that comes and goes throughout my day. The most frustrating is my loss for words, that I can see the word, spell the word but I can not say the word. Not even my husband's name.

My body is arguing,

it is in a war

with itself.

I wake up each morning in pain and have to talk myself into not giving in to it, to not letting it win, to keep moving, reaching, thinking, and living, and keep telling myself I am not crazy, that these symptoms are real, and treatable. 

Then I get on my knees and pray for a cure,

and I thank the Lord above

for another day

on this beautiful earth.

Happy Easter!