After pushing myself hard last week, I found myself in a fibromyalgia pain flare. Thankfully it lasted about 6 hours instead of a few days, at least that I can tell. Fibromyalgia is pesky in that it’s nearly impossible to tell how it will jump ya.
My fiancé and I were checking on our new house, which is undergoing renovations. We hired a contractor from my hometown to replace the carpet with tile floors. No way were we renovating ourselves with my fibromyalgia! By mistake one of the workers busted out the fireplace. Fiancé and I took this as a great opportunity to replace the builder grade tile that was there with mock marble. We will have a very classy house by the time renovations are done.
When we arrived at our house, we could tell that the garage door was broken, and the vent above the garage that leads to the attic was knocked out. My fibromyalgia pain level was manageable, but I was freaked out – had someone broken in? Our packing boxes were inside.
After going inside and finding the packaging intact, my fiancé climbed into the attic and nearly fell through the ceiling into the garage. I about died. My dad was about to go up there after him. My friend had come over with us to see the house expecting the renovations to be done, so we took her car to go to the nearest grocery store to buy duct tape so my fiancé could duct tape the vent back to the attic. I quickly developed fibro fog, so it took a while to find the duct tape even though the grocery store was less than 5 minutes from our house and about a block away.
Once we got back with the tape, I sunk into the couch with my friend. I hadn’t noticed it, but my fibromyalgia pain had crept up during the car ride over to the house. Currently my fiancé and I live in separate cities – when my fibromyalgia pain became severe, I left my apartment in the city and stayed with my parents. My father is a minister and very old school. Despite my fiancé and I being engaged with my father’s approval, he insisted that we not live together. My fiancé, the sweetheart (sometime too much) that he is, respected my father’s wishes as he wanted no bad blood. He is, after all, paying for the wedding.
Which brings me to another point. The wedding.
My fiancé helped me off the couch after he and my dad worked on the house for a few hours. On the car ride home, my fibromyalgia pain was so severe that I had to lean the car seat all the way back. The town I’m living in is 45 minutes from my new house. It’s a doozy with fibromyalgia pain.
During the last year, my fibromyalgia has taken from me something I never thought I had: my beauty.
I had once been a model for a photography class and a size 0 for all of my life until this past year, due to fibromyalgia and fibromyalgia medications. As I am a lady I will not disclose my size. Once I searched for plus size wedding dresses on Pinterest, only to find trolls commenting on beautiful women saying they were stuffed sausages, or too well fed, or that they ate too much. As someone who went from a size 0 to a size whatever, I can say it was not because I stuffed myself because I felt like it. My precious metabolism disappeared and the fibromyalgia drugs packed the weight on. And can all of us with fibromyalgia say pain eating is real?
But even when I was the social norm for beautiful, I never felt beautiful. I feel wretched looking back on how I didn’t love myself as a model, didn’t love myself as an Audrey Hepburn lookalike…
My biggest fear is that I will look at my wedding photos and cringe at how I looked. I am afraid of looking the worst I ever looked on the most important day of my life because of fibromyalgia.
But I know I have to love this body, this painful, plus size, chronically ill fibromyalgia body. It has carried me through so much. Even though I wasn’t aware of this before, it has always been there for me. Maybe I don’t register this, but my body doesn’t want to be sick, it wants to be healthy too, and it’s in this battle with me. She deserves my love and respect the way I deserve love and respect, whether I have fibromyalgia, a pain flare, a fit body, or not. Because we are not our bodies, and that includes me.
So, a recap:
Pocket full of starlight: Your body still loves you, even if you hurt. It doesn’t want to hurt you, it hurts too.
Pocket full of darkness: You and your body both hurt!