Faith, Part One

I woke, grateful for the sleep, but with the dull spike still lodged behind my right eye. I sought to remember .... ah yes - yesterday - the familiar malaise. And headache, coming on too late in the day to take anything for it, as the only ingredient that kicks them out is caffeine. Which just happens to be the same ingredient that keeps me awake for the following 14 hours, at least.

I rolled over, grateful for the new heating pad. Upcoming comfort! I turned it on, then continued to maneuver out of bed and downstairs to the generic migraine medication bottle. I knew this would do the trick, took two to be sure. Then back to my now warm bed to wait out the magic.

My mind wandered, to thoughts which came with surprising ease and I knew I wanted to keep. It's lovely, that time between sleeping and waking. Or I should say, between waking and getting up. So many years of 'Get up, get going.' No time to let my mind have a little play as I thoughtlessly peruse the beige ceiling! The re-wiring is taking time, but I am determined.

I purposely kept the recently revealed thoughts simple, so that I could retrieve them later. I dozed, satisfied.

It's good to know, "This, too, shall pass." I have learned that when my nervous system begs for its cocoon, to give it just that. I curl up with tea, and TV, and wait. Sometimes I have to wait quite awhile. Sometimes I catch it early enough that the day is not entirely lost. Most times, there is not much I can do. By the end of particularly bad days, I am ready to cry with the uselessness of myself, and sometimes, I do. "This, too, shall pass." Then a good day comes again, often several in a row if a storm system isn't coming on, or I haven't taken a tumble on the stairs and injured myself (again), or some family member doesn't need me for something. Just life, you know?

In an effort to feel more direction in my life, I recently began studying faith. Well, let me back up. I'm a Mormon, a Christian, and the first value I am studying as I go through our Young Women Personal Progress Program is faith.

The title page has the word 'faith' in beautiful script at the top, followed by a scripture and a very beautiful picture of the Savior. The scripture reads:

Faith is not to have a perfect knowledge of things; therefore if ye have faith ye hope for things which are not seen, which are true (Alma 32:21).

I ponder this scripture for a moment. My mind jumps to the question, what are the things I would hope for in my life that are not presently seen? (And which are true, which I take to mean in the realm of possibility and aligned with God's will).

There are the obvious things. To make more money so that I can help my kids with college and take them to see wonderful places in the world. I would also feel very happy to give more to charitable institutions. There are hopes and personal dreams I have of becoming that are too private to list here, at least, for the moment. I have hope of better health. I have hope of continued improvement in my relationships, not least of all my relationship with myself. I have hope of being more organized, and tackling AND completing a few projects which have plagued me long enough. (Though keeping my bathroom clean isn't one of them. I have that one down, thank you very much! See, anything can happen!)

I have hope for my children, and my unborn grandchildren, waiting for their turn on earth. I have hope they will experience great joy and purpose in their lives. I have hope for healing where it is needed, across generations and time. I know this kind of healing is possible and true.

If you know someone with fibro, chronic fatigue, or mental illness ...

Today's post is going to be a little bit different than some. Maybe it's my new meds talking. Or maybe it's the fibro symptom where your brain and your tongue feel temporarily disconnected, and you find yourself in the place of, "Did I just say that?"

I have fibromyalgia. Basically, it is a syndrome of the nervous system (one theory) and falls under a larger umbrella of central sensitivity syndromes. In my case, my nervous system has been ramped up for so long that it can no longer process most stimuli as a normal person would.

I look fine. In fact, people tell me I look great. I recently lost 14 pounds in an effort to eat healthier and hence, be healthier. Changing my diet has helped some. I can tell when I start to eat too much of refined foods. Mainly, joints start to hurt that didn't previously.

I try to have fun and a positive attitude. I must be a bit stronger than I used to be, because when it first set in, I would sit quietly at a family or social function - not like me. I felt apart from everyone. I didn't understand what I was experiencing, or why. I was a bit negative in my outlook on life - totally subconscious on my part, but there all the same.

Now, I can interact with people and not feel like a deer in headlights. I can laugh and joke. I do not handle cognitive or emotional stress well. But then, who does? Maybe we should just do away with those kinds of stress. The physical is enough.

As I said, there is a mental component to fibromyalgia. I get depressed occasionally. I get anxious quite often. I am using cognitive and physical therapies to work with the anxiety, but sometimes, it just can't be helped. My body takes over, sending me messages to slow down and take care of myself however I have to. So, I understand a bit better now how devastating mental illness can be for a person.

When I have a big flare -- and almost anything can set it off, even the weather, DH calls me a walking barometer -- I feel utterly useless for a period.

Folks, I am writing this because this syndrome is real. It affects people, even though they may try not to show it. I have to be very careful to keep my life at a certain low stress level. If I do that, then I can function enough to take care of myself and my family somewhat. I also work to make it a habit to be cheerful, even when I am feeling crummy. Because I don't want to spread that negative energy, or come across as feeling sorry for myself (well, not for more than 15 minutes at a time). But there are some times I can't hide it, and that's okay. My family is learning to adjust.

I've given up some things. Sitting on your caboose on the sofa watching TV or cruising the internet is not how I would choose to spend my time, but sometimes, I'm grateful I can do that and take my mind off my symptoms.

I miss working and interacting with people. I worked hard to be productive in my field. I miss it, but I can only handle so much interaction per day now. When I'm done, I'm done, and my system tells me.

I miss being able to contribute substantially to my children's college tuition. I miss taking them on trips. I miss being able to drive on a road trip with them without needing major rest when I get there. I miss long hikes and adventures. I miss not being spent by three p.m.., sometimes earlier depending on what's happened earlier in the day or if a storm system is moving in. I miss dancing with abandon.

I miss being able to think. I can't remember what you might have said five minutes ago, and I can forget even trying to remember the details. I have to write everything down on a calendar, in very specific ways. The anxiety of trying to remember things can be overwhelming at times.

Now, in case you think I want sympathy or feel sorry for myself, I do not. I am grateful EVERY SINGLE DAY that I can walk, move, and feel well enough that I am not stuck in bed, as some fibro sufferers are. I am very cognizant that many people suffer in the world with far worse, but I also know I am entitled to live my life how I have to to be healthy. That often means my having boundaries other people don't or can't understand.

So, I guess, in the end, this post is about being aware. If someone you know or love has a syndrome/illness you can't see, it doesn't necessarily define them, but it does affect them. And when you ask about it and they tell you, listen.

Then believe them.

Even though you can't see it, even though they have made the decision to be cheerful, even though they can enjoy non-stressful events just fine for a period, and they realize and KNOW there is much to be grateful for, don't assume that it's all in their head. Because it's not.

Little Surprises

Lately, I have been working on establishing routines. Wha? Huh? What kind of routines, you ask?

Well, for starters, something as simple as doing the same things when I get up in the morning, like doing my physical therapy exercises, having reading/writing time, showering, unloading the dishwasher, etc .... getting those things done, without really thinking about it, so I can get on to the rest of the day, whatever that agenda might entail.

Because I struggle with time. Not being on time. Oh, no, I am VERY good at that. (Thank you, growing up in a military family.)

No, I've simply been on the treadmill for so long at a certain speed, it's hard for me to ramp down as I would like. To move smoothly through things, with elegance, ease, and trust.

It also doesn't help that I am easily distracted. Like this blog post. (Secret: I haven't done my routines yet, except for my physical therapy exercises .... ;-)). Of course, being the artistic, creative soul that I am I don't want to lose the moment and write this later, when the essence of the event has to be re-created. (Recognizing that perhaps that thought is a myth in itself, but will save that for another post.)

So, here I am, my routine completely jumbled in the best way this morning, and all because of serendipity, once again. Seems the universe would like to help me out on this one.

I woke and after groggy contemplation, decided to check FB. Hmmm, routine already disrupted there. But I didn't stay on long, as I sometimes do. Then upstairs to grab my exercise stuff - inflatable ball, towel, rubber band - and was it my imagination or did my exercises seem to go more smoothly this morning? I do like just getting them done, but not hurriedly. I enjoy the movement, my body aligning itself as it needs to be.

Then, downstairs for breakfast. I figured, fix some breakfast, then read my scriptures while eating. Ah, that sounded nice! I opened the cupboard door.

What, no oatmeal? None? Oh, but those cookies were good :-). What else to fix? Then I spy an old but perfectly serviceable box of beignet mix! (Beignets are French donuts for those of you who have not been to New Orleans and tasted these yummy treats. Cafe Dumond, if you are ever in the area.) Hmmm, both my boys are home, should I surprise them? Yes, I will.

I begin to mix them up in the kitchen ... quite easy, really, just add water. And as I am mixing darling hubby comes down and begins playing the piano in the adjoining room. (Which he never does in the morning.) He is really, really good by the way. A lovely hymn, "If You Could Hie to Kolob." Gorgeous, melodic arrangement. Then, darling son, 22, appears with his guitar. He begins playing a counter melody. They finish, then after a brief tuning, they play the song again.

I am in heaven, singing along softly in the kitchen, watching the puffy little balls of dough fry in the hot oil, dousing them with powdered sugar, and imagining the delight and surprise of my boys at such an unexpected treat.

Routines are good. So is spontaneity. And feeling very grateful that I had the time this morning to be spontaneous like that. Now I am off to finish my routines and get on with the rest of the day.

Wise Words

Anxiety and depression have been a large part of my life, though for a long time, I didn't know it. I could recount numerous relatives who self-medicated, but I won't. That was their journey, their pain.

I thought when I moved from my family of origin, that those demons would be gone. Little did I know that these lovely little diseases are carried genetically, chemically, often passed around the family like a hot potato, willy nilly, afflicting those we love seemingly at random. I never quite understood it. "Come on, just exercise and eat right and be positive and it will all work out." Or, "Just snap out of it."

Now I understand. If there is anything having fibromyalgia has taught me, it is more compassion. Much more. And for that, I am very grateful.

A dear friend of mine who also suffers from these afflictions recently spoke at a congregational address. He alluded briefly and appropriately to his experience, and then proceeded to speak from his experience. I would like to share his words here, not verbatim, but I did take good notes :-).

First, we should remind ourselves we can figure 'this' out, and that ultimately, these afflictions (or any afflictions, for that matter) will be taken from us in the next life. But for now, some days, you just put one foot in front of the other, and realize that in doing so, you're doing just great.

Second, he reminded us to use 'faith promoting language' in our heads, in other words, in our self-talk. Instead of thinking of something as a disaster, we can look at it as a wonderful learning opportunity. If something seems a mess, we can instead view it as an opportunity to figure out a solution. Recognize that many things are just a bump in the road.

We need to empower ourselves. If we ask ourselves, "What's wrong with me?" well, the brain will tell us.

Look at things through the prism of faith. This is not to minimize the feelings and emotions we experience during affliction, but it is good to remember that those feelings and emotions are not everything there is.

It's a good place

"Slow and steady wins the race ..." How many times have I heard this? Yet, it is not my nature. I have run off adrenaline, the rush, the thrill, the "look how much I can do!' for so long. My being was in my doing. As I've written here before, it's hard to change gears, even when life circumstances force you to. The body may change, the heart and head can be another matter. And it's not fun being at war with oneself.

So, slow and steady wins the race calms my heart. Helps me remember I am right where I need to be. Keeps the anxiety and adrenaline monsters at bay ... no, more than that. It helps them go 'poof' in a cloud of smoke, naming them for the illusions they truly are.

Earlier, I mentioned the book Style Statement - 'Walk, don't run!' Well, I never finished that book. Maybe I will this summer ... we will see. Other books are currently on my plate to digest, slowly and steadily. But I do often think on what my style statement would be, those two words that would guide my actions because they reflect my core. Integrity can feel really good.

Two words I came up with were 'unstudied presence.' I think this fits in nicely with slow and steady ... I'm not going to obsess over things, but remain 'unstudied' about them. Just do some things because making them a habit allows for more peace in my life, and do others without over thinking them so I don't feel anxious about the process. Presence keeps me steady with my desires, my goals, my dreams ... the quality of life I am seeking to build for myself.

Slow and steady ... feels good, doesn't it?

Beginnings

It's a Monday, and I awoke to a sudden storm. How long had it been going on? I'm not sure. As a child, living on the Gulf Coast, I loved them. I loved the sound of thunder rolling in, taking it's time with the warm up before the big show started. And what a show. Then, the aftermath, soft rain continuing sometimes for several days. Here, the storms are sudden and short. They do their job washing our little piece of earth, then move on.

Earlier, I wrote about the gift(s) I had no doubt I would find in my illness. The firmest diagnosis for what I have is fibromyalgia. Of course, I would have something not well-defined and with no known cure :-). That's okay. I can walk, talk, do pretty much what I want to as long as I don't overdo, which is more than some folks. I am grateful.

This has been a year of exploration. Starting and stopping, then starting again. Searching for answers ... and the good Lord has provided just enough that I don't get too discouraged. But, as usually is the case, the most essential answers were inside of me, just waiting to be discovered. It's time to open them now.

In Taylor Hartman's book, The Character Code, he writes about four major personality types based on individual motivation. I am a red ... my gift is the gift of vision. I often see a bridge and how to build it. My challenge is to be sure I cross the bridge to the other side.

I think it's time I start crossing some bridges.

What bridges do I sense are waiting to be explored? Well, going through quite a bit of family history/photographs is one. Writing a book about my mother, at least getting a working draft, is another. Finding my style statement is a third. I think that's enough for now, don't you?

There are a few others ... getting into the habit of productive routines will support the bridges mentioned above, and some smaller but no less important goals I have in my life. And with fibro, the routine can change from day to day depending on how one feels. I can tell you when the weather is going to change, usually at least 24 hours in advance, based on how I feel. My joints will begin to hurt, or I will get a headache, or my nerves will fire up and I have to ground myself in some way, listening to my body and what it needs. But I refuse to focus on what I can't do.

I can.

Yes, that is the answer that springs from my spirit, the answer that was inside of me all the time, waiting for me to hear it's empowering and flexible voice.