Having Fibromyalgia Sucks Giant Hairy Monkey Balls

I’m “resting” today.  Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.  I hate “resting” days.  I do.  I mean, I talk a big talk about body awareness and blah blah blah motivational BS blah blah blah we shall overcome blah blah – and it’s not all talk, but it’s mostly affirmations. I say the positive, body acceptance things every single fucking day because if I don’t I will start to resent my body and the world and everything will be horrible.

I don’t want everything to be horrible.  Winter is kicking my ass.  The chill has seeped into my bones and I am well on my way to being appropriately jaded for the holiday season.  I’m always exhausted. I have no extra energy. When I do feel like I have energy in the mornings, by the evenings I feel like death. Tai Chi is getting harder to do even!  Fuckity fuck fuck fuck.

I have a very difficult time giving myself permission to rest.  I feel like a useless lump of a human being that is mooching off Robit. Robit loves me, but it doesn’t make those feelings go away.  I went from being a financially independent female who worked full time to part time work to transitioning into a new career and needing to be supported.

I moved out when I was sixteen, almost seventeen.  The last time anyone supported me financially was when my brother let me live in his dining room.  I still have moments where I wonder how will I ever pay Robit back for everything?  It’s not reasonable, but it’s what life has taught me.

No wasted movements, move with purpose.  That is one of my main mantras right now.  It helps, but it’s infuriating. I often envision all the things I could be doing.  Sometimes I even try to do them and quickly realize I won’t be able to finish them.  Do that enough times and it will kill your motivation for things that you haven’t seriously committed too.  I don’t feel like I do “little things” anymore. Everything is important b/c I have allotted my spoons to the cause of the thing I am choosing to do.  It had better fucking matter.


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