Category Archives: Spoons

Another Fucking Growth Opportunity, Chronic pain, fibromyalgia, Poetry, Spoonie, Spoons

A year fit into me…

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When I was having my first massage in a long while with Abby I has a transformative experience. It was one of those moments when you aren’t sleeping but you aren’t fully engaged with world and you can reach into your mind and really identify the things you NEED to do with your life.

I discovered what 2021 has to be about for me.

I recently has the discussion with my neurologist that he doesn’t know that there is anything more he can do to help me. I have failed all the drugs currently known to treat fibromyalgia.

So in this coming year I need to learn how to live in a body that is years ahead of help from medical science.

So here is my plan:

  • Find the things I can do to help myself. These include:
    • Exercise on the BoxVR every single day regardless of how much it hurts. Even if it’s only for five minutes. All the research says movement helps fibro.
    • Meditate.
    • Stretch every day.
    • Get a massage a week.
    • Lose weight to reduce stress on already stressed joints.
    • Be kind to myself.
    • Blog about your experience regularly.

I also decided to leave the gallery and work on a book of poetry. I want to write about my experience in a way that makes it accessible to those who don’t understand invisible chronic illnesses.

Finally, I need to take the time I need to love my body. I need to find a way to appreciate what it does for me instead of focusing what it does to me.

So it’s a grandiose plan, but I am hopeful it will help.

At this point, I am my only hope.

Haiku Horizons, poem, Poetry, Spoons, The art of pain, Un-Haiku-th

Poetic bliss…

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Poetry and I have a long standing relationship.

When I was a child I spent hours writing poems in journals, sometimes I would even put them to music. Somewhere in my rambling house is a series of journals filled to the brim with the least discerning poetry ever written. Some of it is good, I remember, but most of it is the kind of stuff that makes one think of Sweet Valley High novels.

Then I took a break from poetry. I learned technical wordsmithing and stepped away from the comforting world of creative writing.

Then I discovered Haiku Fridays, right here on this blog, in 2006. I spent a lot of time writing Haiku while my kids played at my feet.

Lately the poetry has been flowing again, demanding attention by waking me up in the middle of the night with fully formed verses demanding a paper and pen.

I’ve given in.

As of the first week of February I am taking a hiatus from the gallery and spending a year collaborating with a sister spoonie on a book of poetry.

To begin the journey I have been honored to have some of my work shared by the Southern Plains Land Trust. You can view it here: https://twitter.com/SouthernPlains/status/1356307578230226944?s=20

You should also keep your eye out for some of those Haiku I was talking up. I created a series of Valentines ecards for a February fundraising campaign.

Stay safe loves.

#fibromyalgia, #spoonie, #spoons, #tired, Just me, Spoons

Shortchanging…

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It seems apropos to write about short changing during a coin crisis. Of course, I am writing about a lack of emotional quarters instead of a lack of actual quarters but still, they say timing is everything.

I want to apologize to you for shortchanging you.

I short change you every time you ask how I am feeling. I never share the whole answer with you. I never let you inside that aspect of my life.

This failing of mine comes from a place of love.

You see, I can feel how much I hurt you when you learn how much I hurt. You love me and you don’t want to see me in pain. But you try to support me, you ask how I am and hope with intensity that my answer is “better.”

It rarely is.

That’s the thing about Fibromyalgia. It’s a tenacious little fucker.

I have a problem though. You see, I’ve been shortchanging you for so long that I no longer feel comfortable giving you the full story. I’ve managed to shut myself off from that luxury through my effort to protect you.

And I really, really need you right now.

I am tired.

It’s been a long road of not being okay and there are no exits for me. I am supposed to wake up every day and fight an enemy I cannot see, who is so close to me you cannot separate me from it.

I am so very tired.

I am too tired for words. Too tired to tell you how much I hurt. All of my energy is going into this fight right now. I am less able to friend, to mom, to wife.

I apologize for that.

I would ask that when you ask me how I am and I don’t really tell you, to please assume I am in a bad place and just pour on the love. I’m sorry I can’t ask in a better way, or be more verbose one on one.

I love you.