Of Fibromyalgia and Flare-Ups

12,890 Days Alive

4 More Days Till Payday

1 Heated Blanket on My Amazon Wishlist

Do you know what it means when I have a flare up? It’s like having a depressive downswing, but worse because everything hurts. Moving, walking, talking hurts.

I keep meaning to write a piece on Spoon Theory but here’s a good article that explains it fairly well.

In any case, it sucks. A lot. And I’m in week two of this particular flare up. My muscles are aching so badly I actually took the elevator downstairs when I got off work because I didn’t think I could handle going down stairs without incident.

It’s vexing to fight through brain fog and work through the day so tired you have to take a nap at your desk on lunch. I’m so tired of being tired.

In better news, I may actually be able to treat myself to a little lunch or something when I get paid. Or maybe I’ll save money and do something with MJ when our schedules allow.

My internal temperature is fluctuating, too. Even though it’s hot out, I can’t get warm. I need that damned heated blanket. I’ll check WalMart when I get paid because the one I like on Amazon is stupid expensive.

I’m trying to keep Desiderata in mind these days. I need to continue to strive to be happy. Even when it feels hopeless.

I want to cook again this weekend. Maybe I’ll go to Sanwa for mushrooms and make a mess of stuffed mushrooms for myself. And buy some pickles. I want pickles, too. And I really want to break in the new crock pot with a beef roast or some shredded bbq chicken.

Anyway, it’s nearly ten. I’m going to go find some sleep socks, appease the Duolingo owl, and head to bed.

Take your meds, folks.

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