The past week has been very painful. My pain has been incredibly intense with last night finally bringing me to the brink of tears. My everything hurts. By 4:30 this morning I was resigned to the fact that I was not going to be able to fall asleep, no matter how tired I was, because I was in too much pain. I had gone some time without this level of pain, and for that I am thankful. The return of my #fibromyalgia pain also indicates that the Cymbalta is finally out of my system, for which I am also grateful. That being said, the inescapable pain is still no picnic. Do I remember what a picnic is like? I write today not to complain. I do not ask for sympathy. I promised myself that I would try to post here more often so that others like me will know they are not alone. It is a powerful thing to feel validated, and so I share this with you today, fellow spoonies. My everything hurts. My skin feels like it has been charred by the sun, the worst sunburn you can imagine. It feels tight and unmoving- and two sizes too small. I can't move without aggravating it. It is like each pore is a paper cut, and every minute movement tears them open by the thousands. My softest blanket feels like burlap; my bed a pile of fiberglass insulation. My hair hurts. Not the hair itself, but the weight of each and every strand pulls like it is weighted. My scalp screams from the heaviness and any brush of my strands against my skin is like a single tail whip striking tender skin. Can't put it up, that hurts worse. The temptation to shave my head was great at 4am. 😳 My eyes hurt. It is as if there is a living being I my cranium that is trying to squeeze them out of their sockets from the inside. My muscles hurt. Most people have had a "Charlie Horse". Imagine that pain in every muscle fiber in your body. For fun, my muscles take hurts rolling under my skin, just to make sure I know it is there. One second it's my left calf, the next it's my right deltoid, two seconds later my jaw pops. My bones hurt. The pain of #fibro is like toxic waves of radiation are flooding your body from my very marrow out. My nerves are antsy. A perfect phrase, this is what a friend with another invisible illness calls the "buzz buzz". (Cute names take the scary out of neuropathic pain, you know). It is like a constant buzz of busy fire ants are running along the underside of your skin. My hands, feet and head are under so much pressure I am sure something is going to pop any moment. Anyone seen Scanners? My brain. My poor brain. It is screaming. It is screaming in pain that has long since left the 1-10 scale. (Spinal Tap fans will know this as the volume set to 11) I hurt so bad. I can't escape this pain. I can't breathe mindfully because the pain is too much to put to rest. I can't escape it, can't push through it, can't get around it, can't ignore it. It dominates every thought so that I cannot even meditate to put it at ease. It is everything. Today is beautiful out. Warm and sunny. My spirit wants to go outside. Take a walk. Tend my garden. Play a game of horse shoes. Play with my puppies. But my body just cannot. It is so hard to look outside so longingly and wonder if I will ever be able to do these things. Will I ever have a "normal" day? My inner voice clings to hope with the knowledge that surely this will pass. But speaking over it with a loud and ominous voice is the fear that all days will be like today. If you are suffering with #chronicpain , #chronicilless or one of the many invisible illnesses please know, if you nodded silently while reading this - you are not alone. #youarenotalone
