At the moment I’m going on two and a half weeks of the worst pain flare I’ve ever had. I’ve needed help dressing almost every day, I’m having issues with basic movements and leaving the house is only for short trips. I haven’t been feeling the best emotionally, as one would imagine.
To try and combat the bad moods, I’ve tried to make it along two sword fighting classes each week. Tonight I realised that I only had about a 30% chance that I could get up and fight, despite buying my gear (part of which doesn’t actually fit me. Yay for being a human chode) and I was already feeling shitty about it but I was dealing. I think I really cracked up a bit when we all filed into the hall and the teacher saw me sitting on the walls. The two mothers that were here for their kids pulled the chairs to sit away from me which was fantastic, but then the teacher asked if I was going to join in. I politely shook my head. He doesn’t know the details of my condition so I can’t blame him. He said I could follow along with my arms. I shook my head again. Because otherwise you can bet your arse I would already be up there doing it.
It’s about half an hour through the class and I’ve retreated to sitting in the car. I can’t quite explain how much it hurts to be at something I love so much but to not be able to participate because my body has decided for the third week now that we’ve lost most of our independence in favour of pain and misery. I know Manthing loves it as much as I do, so I’ve declined his offer to take me home early. Realistically I’ve already taken my painkillers. Being home won’t help. It’s just one of those nights where I’m having a hard time coming to terms with my illness and how far it has taken over my life.
I mean, how the hell is any normal person supposed to react to this? “Yeah, look. You get to live with chronic pain for your entire life, but once you hut your 20s, it’s going to go hell for leather for everything you’ve grown to love and found strength in. And it’s going to be entirely unpredictable so don’t set your heart on anything.”
I could start the whine of “I never agreed to this” but it won’t fix anything. I’m accepting this as one of my downer nights and hoping that things will have improved some next week. But I also realised that I actually know nobody else with fibro. Not on a personal level. Not in a way where I would feel comfortable in talking to them about tonight and knowing that they probably understand exactly what I’m talking about. Tonight is a bit rough. Tomorrow will be better. But sometimes you just want it today.