Self Awearness

All posts tagged Self Awearness

Grey Skies and Rainy Times

Published August 5, 2015 by aspooniesmakeupbag

Today I find myself feeling fustrated. It’s been a little over 2 years that I have relapsed… 2 years.

I really can’t even remember what it was like to have my own money, to be able to just hop in the car and head out for a little retail theropy.

I know that sound shallow, really I am not meaning to be. It’s just that… well I guess I just have always worked, have always had a paycheck. I never needed to depend on anyone for anything and now I can’t even buy a pack of gum on my own…. that’s true frustration.

I’ve been a fibromyalgia suffer for the better part of 6 years and in the beginning I was able to work but now there arent very many good day and I think that is where my depression starts to kick in. When you are stuck in bed for as long as I have been you loose you self worth. You forget that you are valid. When you have to depend on anyone else you start to feel useless.

My husband does a damn good job at making sure I never need for anything, it would just be nice to one day be able to say I purchased this, or hey babe let ME take you on a date.

There use to be a time when I could look into my closet and say I spent way too much on clothes and ask myself why in earth I had so many purple tops.

Now when I look into my closet all I find is a reminder that I am not a productive member of society anymore. I also am reminded that my fashion sense has gone right out the window.

You see, when you live the life of a spoonie you for go trendy for comfort. I use to own 20 pairs of jeans, Now I own nothing but sweat pants and pj bottoms. I use to own so many cute tops and sweaters but now I own tank tops and cardigans.

Someone with fibromyalgia has to be careful of what they wear. We have hyper sensitive areas on our bodies that when touched or constricted sends our bodies into blinding pain…. so those skinny jeans we use to love are now off limits. Hell, most of the time I wear just a tank top and pj shorts just to try and easy my discomfort.

So here I am fustrated because I want to go shopping, and I am (just a little bit…if my energy allows me to) but it just isn’t the same when you have to defer the bill to someone else to pay. Don’t get me wrong, I am super excited to be getting a new eyeshadow pallet I am dying for, it’s just that when I would snag the hot new makeup item when I was making my own money there was this sense of accomplishment, now there is excitement but it’s no longer MY accomplishment.

I know that as a married couple my husband and I accomplish life together but I watch as he works so much harder than he should have to just to be able to make sure I am able to have some play money. That is so heart aching for me.

During the holidays and his birthday it’s nice that I have money to gift him things and he is truly grateful for the gifts he recieves, however isn’t it really just him buying his own present? After all it is his paycheck that affords me the ability to get him a gift in the first place.

Being a spoonie that is faced with being confined to your home, you find that you get fustrated about many thing, not just financial issues.

Take for instance not being able take a trip out for the day spontaneously. Living with fibromyalgia means having to plan outings with as much advanced notice as possible.

I have to make sure I rest so that I don’t over do myself, I have to make sure I don’t forget to take all my medication on time so as to avoid weakening myself to pain beyond what my brain has deemed will be my daily allotted amount. I have to make sure that the only pair of jeans I own (why own more than 1 pair if I am really never leaving the house anyway) isn’t going to be pressing in on any of my tender points. I have to make sure I am careful of what I eat for the week to ensure I am not nauseous when I am out of the house.

I am fustrated also because I have been so weak and in so much pain this week and it feels as if I will never have a good day again, that I will always be this weak and in this much pain but than I remmeber that only 17 months ago this was me…

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Just 17 months ago I was so weak that I couldn’t even sit up. There was so much pain that I couldn’t even breath without wanting to scream. Just a little over a year and a half ago I couldn’t take a bath on my own, I couldn’t change my clothes on my own… and fast forward to the present and here I am blogging. Here I am  upright (granted it’s not for long periods of time, but it’s a start) and able to shower on my own (normally using a shower chair). I am even able to wear makeup on more than just a few days or less.

Granted, most of the days that I am wearing makeup I am still in a tanktop and pj bottems, and instead of applying my makeup at my vanity I almost always have to apply it from bed, I am STILL able to wear makeup… an almost on the daily.

I guess what started out as a pitty party today has taught me that my life should be a celebration of those small steps I keep talking about.

To all my wonderful spoonies out there , those little steps might seem like a drop in the bucket, and we may not be able to work and make a dollar, but look at us now. Those little steps are little reminders that it wont always be grey skies and rainy times. Just because you are house bound and may be fighting the government for assistance (because hey you look healthy or your symptoms aren’t life threatening to the powers that be) it’s ok to accept help from those who love you most.

To all you beautiful dishes out there, remember even when we  forget to tell you how amazing your support has been, we always feel it. 

Well, that’s all for now… my body is screaming for me to go take a rest,

Until next time hang in there spoonie darlings, it won’t always be fustrating.

Thanks for taking the time to peek in on this spoonie’s makeup bag and don’t forget to save a spoon for a bit of lip gloss.

A Strength Not Even Teflon Can Claim

Published August 4, 2015 by aspooniesmakeupbag

This post actually reminded me just how strong I am on the inside. I wrote it on a day when all I wanted was to crumble, to give in… but I got through it. This post  also reminded me what I wanted to accomplish with this blog…. it reminded me that there is always tomorrow to begin again… Hope you enjoy.

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Today has been pure and utter hell. I am still waiting for my Dr’s office to call in and correct an error on my prescription for Cymbalta.

I have now been 6 days without this medication and am starting to feel the side effects of a cold withdrawal.

I have never had this experience before and now have a Cathartic respect for anyone who has ever kicked an addiction.

The pain is horrific, the dizziness never comes in waves like when one has the flu or food poisoning, it is just ever-present.

Foods I love have a nasty taste right now, and my sense of smell is going to be the death of me. I hate anything that once smelled like heaven and it would appear that my nose has gained  a super power. I can smell things that never bothered me before, things like dirt in my rose bushes and baby powder that I use to sooth my fur babies itches.

Lets talk itches while the topic is fresh …. I feel like my enter body is trying to destroy me. I itch all the time. I have tried changing my body wash, soaking in an oatmeal bath, switching to a viscous body lotion, swapping out our laundry detergent and fabric softener to baby friendly versions and nothing helps. My skin is raw from me scratching non stop and this only serves to irritate my poor skin more.

Noise physically hurts. I feel like a crazy woman, I swear I can hear the earth rotate on it’s axis. As a person with Fibromyalgia, I know that these symptoms are nothing new but damn if they don’t feel some how amplified.

On day 2 I was reduced to tears most of the day and by day 5 I was ready to take a curtain call, but then I realized I am not the only person out there suffering from a case of the spoonies, and how can I ever wish to ease life for my fellow spoonies if I don’t pull myself up and fight my way out of my depression and not let this little issue sway me to do something stupid.

I guess what I mean is your pain is real, all of our pain is real, and the struggles will pass. There will come a time when it will get better. Hold on spoonie darlings, there will be a day when you will rise above you invisible attacker.

We can hope for cures and hope for awareness, but let us never forget to revel in our small steps taken and our small achievement, those are the stepping-stones to our greater selves, our happier selves.

Rise spoonie darlings, like the Phoenix’s I know you all are. Why? Damn it because we are spoonie strong …. that’s a strength not even Teflon can claim.

Nite for now my spoonie family. May the dawn present you with smiles, happiness, and baskets of spoons.

Untill next time, thanks for peeking in on   this spoonie’s makeup bag and as alway remember – save a spoon for lip gloss.

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