@parus
Yes, it's easier to stay home. The challenge is in doing the better thing. Which is to go out and face the day. To interact, even in small ways. Try to do the small things you can do, well. I set small goals...get groceries, check in on 88 year old father, enjoy my grandkids. The more I laugh and enjoy others, the more charitable I can be about them "not getting it". Every time I go out that door, I do myself a favor. I am more inclined to be alone, reading, or just staying in my comfort zone. The more I do that the easier it is to forget, hey, I have something to offer. Even if it's just helping an elderly person with the door, reach items on a high shelf, carry stuff for a struggling young mother. I am only as good as I give. Life comprises so much more than the sum total of my infirmities. We are valuable. Maybe we can't do big things. But we can do small things well.

The more we turn inward, participate less in life, we diminish our quality. Yes, it requires effort no one can know. And yes, it hurts to just get ready to go out. And NO, people aren't gonna get it. But, they don't need to for chronic pain sufferers to participate in life. I can't wait until those that should understand (because they know me) me, actually DO understand. I can't wait for that because life will pass me by. I miss too many opportunities to GIVE. There are no exercises, therapies, supplements or meds that can provide the boost to my wellbeing mere participation does.

I truly know how you feel. One part guilt, one part uncomfortable in your dysfunctional body, one part scared to get out there, and one part questioning our own sanity. I get it. Fibro is just one of my conditions. Conditions that would have crushed me years ago. But with each health challenge, instead of taking me down, I experience victories. Yep. Small ones. Not significant . But every single time I get out and do something, there is a satisfaction I won't have in seclusion.

I don't thrive on pats on the back, don't need sympathy, but I do need to participate. My husband buttons and zips me. Carries my drinks, helps me clean the house, helps with all the things I can no longer do because of brain damsge. Then he let's me go out and about, doesnt hover over me, because he knows it's good for me. I'm glad for his help, but prefer to do all I can on my own. Unfortunately, that doesn't include my hair. Dysfunctional left arm. Yes he even tries to help with my hair, lol.

Forgot to add....yes, there are days I can't get around, days I can't psyche myself out, days I lay around, throw up, rock my sorry head, but those days are not all my days. Do I like the new me? Not much. Am I a better person having to struggle with things others take for granted? Probably not. The new me is different. I cant go back, but neither do I want to waste the days ahead. God has given me time to use. He didn't take me with the stroke, the aneurysm, the ruptured uterus. Could have. But for some reason He saw it better to keep me here, which I am grateful for. The opportunity to rise above my disabilities and just grow up, give, and love. And yes, it's been so stinking hard, but well worth it. My family makes the efforts so very worth it.

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