I May Be a Bit Tired

Sometimes I just get tired. Not the I-don’t-have-any-energy tired. That’s like, me all the time. I mean the sick and tired kind of tired. The utterly weary tired.

I’m tired of needing to go to bed, almost wanting to go to bed, and refusing to because I know I’ll just stare at the walls for an hour and/or wake up every hour for the next however many and/or wake up in three hours completely unable to go back to sleep.

I’m similarly tired of wanting to go to bed but deciding not to because I know I won’t be able to get comfortable, no matter how much my closing eyes imply sleep is very near.

I’m tired of reaching dinner, having only been up 2 or 7 hours, and thinking how I probably won’t make it through the show I was going to watch at 8, as my body is already in shut-down mode, having also accomplished nothing that day.

I’m tired of twitching all night, meaning during the part that I’m asleep, to the point of almost scaring my husband, all unbeknownst to me while it is happening. Which probably has a great hand in the problem above this one.

I’m tired of jumping around between experimental supplements, having given up on prescriptions, hoping that something like Sam-e, 5 htp, B-12, or Passion Flower will somehow make me feel much, much better.

I’m tired of forgetting to take my 7 vitamins (literally) and then feeling guilty for not feeling well, mistakenly thinking if I had taken them I would actually feel good.

I’m tired of acting like everything’s okay when it’s simply not.

I’m tired of going to the doctor every so many months like someone who’s … not my age.

I’m tired of leaving things to my husband to get done because I’m too [insert tired, weak, shaky, sensory-overloaded, depressed, in tears, or as I generally feel is the cause, lazy] to do it.

I’m tired of the current state of my wreck of an “office/jewelry studio” that I don’t seem to have the physical/mental capacity to tackle anymore.

I’m tired of chest pains that really have nothing to do with my chest at all but are just the annoying locale fibro has chosen for the time being.

I’m tired of people mistakenly thinking I can just do something and get better and be back to “the old me.”

I’m tired of trying to explain my problems, shortcomings, allergies, food needs to people, inconveniencing them with things that are much more than an inconvenience to me.

I’m tired of looking my husband in the face and thinking, Yep, I’m really not here right now.

I’m tired of hitting the same wall every night, when I sit down and wonder at the fact that this. is. my. life. for the rest of my life on earth.

I’m tired of it all.

And I’m tired of being tired of it all.

That is what fibromyalgia looks like.

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A Hope, a Longing, and a Comfort: Three Fibro Anthems, Part I

As a songwriter, singer, and life-long music lover, I live with a song in my head, constantly. Whether I want to or not. (Usually the latter.) And as we with fibromyalgia will take what comfort we can get, with me a good bit of that is from music.

However, it seems to me that writing a song about fibromyalgia would be rather difficult. I know it’s been attempted before, including by me, but I mean a song that’s radio-worthy and broad enough to communicate the struggle without bogging down healthy, fibro-ignorant listeners with phrases like fibro-fog and crawling pain. They just wouldn’t get it.

So you won’t hear songs about fibromyalgia on the radio. (At least not anytime soon. Give me time. ;)) But in all my listening, there are a few songs, from all different genres, that have become to me what feel like personal fibromyalgia battle cries, or maybe more like laments, as fibro doesn’t exactly tend to make one feel courageous but much more often defeated. Yet, hearing these songs is, sometimes unintentionally, comforting. Like I’m letting someone else sing their guts out for me and I just get to listen and take a break from the tears.

Admittedly, these songs aren’t intended to be about fibro. One is actually a break-up song (I know, how do you get fibro out of that…) and the second is just a yearning for freedom, particularly freedom to love. The third is a worship song, amazing enough if it were made up of just the last line of the chorus. And each are so meaningful to me that I think they deserve their own individual posts.

On my hardest nights, this first song’s chorus somehow puts into words my utter emotional exhaustion. The verses of “Cry,” sung by Kelly Clarkson and written by her, Jason Halbert, and Mark Townsend, sadly don’t really apply, but the chorus arrested my ears and well makes up for the inapplicability of the rest of the lyrics. I feel like the artist sings it, as only she can, in a way that screams what my heart feels. And something about someone else so passionately singing their guts out about crying is like a sad balm. Yes, it’s weird the things that feel good when you’re dealing with depression.

Is it over yet?

Can I open my eyes?

Is this as hard as it gets?

Is this what it feels like to really cry?

So short, so simple, and yet so huge. Hoping that every flare, every storm will pass quickly, even while knowing the illness itself will only end when my life does. Hoping, like a little girl, that if you just close your eyes the storm will be past and the sun will be out again. Hoping that no storm to come will ever be as bad as this one and that you’ll be able to look back and at least know you made it through the worst part.

And hoping that this feeling—crying so violently that if you actually cried as hard as your emotions wanted you to, your body would literally break—won’t be a kind of crying that comes too often. Even if it is “what it feels like to really cry.”

And, yes, somehow hearing that sung actually does bring a sad smile to my heart. Sometimes I just have to let Kelly cry for me.