It was my sister’s wedding this week. I’m exhausted. The last week, I haven’t done much. I’ll be honest with you spoonies since I know you can keep secrets – I have been laying in my bed feeling sorry for myself well over a week now. This includes wearing the same pyjamas for 72 hours, eating a mainly potato-chocolate-cheese based diet with random interjections of jam doughnuts, and crying hysterical tears uncontrollably.
I also have a poorly guinea pig so I have been up all night and day to feed him every hour or two. Today I’ve swapped to just having him out the cage and feeding him little bits every few minutes to simulate the natural way they eat.
The one thing I have learned is amidst all the emotional chaos is that if I can still do some remedial task like brush my teeth for example or continue to care for a sick animal, at least I can keep some sense of control.
This week has included a lot of dramas. On the wedding day itself was the first day the guinea pig fell sick so I had to fork out a lot of money to have him cared for within the vet, then had to leave the wedding, drive an hour to pick up the guinea pig, drive back to the wedding and then leave two hours later to get back in time to medicate the guinea pig.
At the wedding, a drunken mess heckled the entertainment, a comedian, so much I had to turn around and ask her to quieten down so I could hear the show and instead she turned her abuse on me. I don’t take kindly to rudeness, especially stone-cold-sober and running on zip sleep. My verbal retaliation noted that if she was an important guest, as the sister of the bride I’d know who she was. Shortly after, she was asked to leave for her continued disrespectful behaviour.
So, currently, I’m working on repaying all the sleep debt I’ve accumulated over the last three days and trying to catch up on missing work and chores.
The lack of sleep added to long days has unmistakably caused a flare-up. My shoulders are swollen, my hips are swollen, I’m covered in bruises and every joint in my body is stiff. The advice ‘pace yourself’ is key with fibromyalgia.
Due to some tattoo touch-ups, the flare is particularly bad and I’m unable to go swimming until the new ink has healed. Instead, I’m using the massage cushion, heat rub and yoga.
I’m waiting until I move and relocate GP surgeries to request further referrals or treatment as it seems to be impossible to get unless you’re visibly impacted by a flare-up on the day of your appointment.
IAPT have, after 11 months of waiting, begun my CBT therapy to try to improve low mood, depression and anxiety. It’s hard to tell if mental health has caused wore fibro flares or the flares have worsened my mental health.
One key thing to remember with therapy is you get as much out of it as you’re willing to put in.
With more rainfall than ever hitting the south-east of England, cold winds and wet weather is also affecting my pain levels. Luckily I can have the heating up higher this week as the guinea pig requires a regulated warm temperature. Sorry, gas bill.
Until next time.