Wednesday, November 7, 2012

I'm "lucky"... if you can call anything "lucky"

I'm lucky in that I don't have depression with my fibro. Turns out that depression and fibro go together like... well, like two things that go together well.

But I'm lucky. I don't have a problem with depression in the actual sense. I'll have a time when I don't feel all that great. Maybe even just have a bad day, but I almost always wake up the next morning feeling fine. And if you know me like I pretend you do, then you know I can also get through almost anything with the use of humor.

Those days, though. They suck. I can't imagine how people live like this on a daily basis. I wake up every morning with the outlook that it'll be a good day and usually it is good. You know how I go a couple weeks without posting a blog or whatever? That's because nothing is happening. At least, nothing worth noting. My pain has been fluctuating but not wildly like it was these last few months. I did have a moment of clarity and I can't remember if I mentioned it or not and frankly I'm too tired and in a crappy mood and don't feel like looking it up to see if I did  mention it or not.

Someone asked me on Facebook, during one of those bad pain days, how it is that I can go all day at the renaissance faire. All day walking/standing/talking/being around people. It isn't a secret. I'm chewing down pain meds like I'm Doctor House and I'm in the thirty-seventh minute of an episode (you know, shortly before he gets his epiphany that leads to saving the patient). On a typical ren faire day, I'll take three Vicodin and one muscle relaxer between ten AM and noon. Then at 530 or 6 PM, I take two or three more Vicodin. I keep a fairly steady level of pain meds in my blood at the ren faire. Or at least I try to anyway.

Well, today's pain isn't all that special. Just the usual kind of pain. I was sitting in the living room for a while today (catching up on DVR shows from last week) and every time a dog stepped on me, it was like a fiery railroad spike had been jammed into my muscle. That's one thing about small dogs I'm not thrilled with- how pointy their goddamn feet are.

No, today's problem is mental. I feel absolutely useless. I contribute nothing to this household. I don't make any money. My "photography business" isn't a business so much as it's just me taking photos. And that isn't really so much of an issue, because while I'm not making money, things are still happening in that area and it could lead to making money. You gotta work to get there, it doesn't just fall into your lap.

But it doesn't help this feeling. I don't feel like I'm important to anyone's life. I feel like I've had a mirror held up to me and I see myself as I always see myself... and now other people see it too. I feel like I've been faking everything and now someone has discovered my secret and I'm terrified others see it now too. "Oh, she's not an adult, we can't take her seriously." ... "You're not an artist, we can't take you seriously." ... "You have nothing to offer us, you don't matter."

Deep down, I know that when I wake up in the morning, I'll be fine. Deep down, I know I'm fine. But this feeling right now, it sucks. I almost prefer the physical pain over this crap.  I can't wait till I fall asleep tonight. Right now, I don't even care about the doctor appointment tomorrow. Normally, I'd be complaining my way through the fasting lab. But right now, I just want today to be over so I can get on to tomorrow. Tomorrow, where I know I'll feel better.

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