Vulnerable - capable of being hurt physically or emotionally
Just being me - topics from this weeks meeting ..
On Monday this week I held my monthly fibromyalgia support meeting at my home. The day started off pretty much as always , awaiting my carer to help me into the shower. I popped my lansoprazole for my ongoing heartburn a side effect from taking so much mediction the last 8 years . I drank my fiber and took my bisocodyl in the hopes that I might not have to resort to another dose of picolax just to pass a bowel movement . I took a good long look in the mirror and decided today I would save some energy and let my hair dry naturally as a lot of it has fallen out now on my new medication and chose to not wear make up as today I do not need a face on - I can relax amongst those who understand and be me. I looked in the mirror and smiled - 'I am ..well ... me' !
The funny thing is I have been hosting these meeting for a very long time , it always amazes me that each month I feel refreshed and renewed as we meet to catch up on day to day living. We escape our pretending to be normal and get to open up and be honest. I have always considered myself to be a researcher a seeker of truth and yet I have also been very gullible when it comes to listening to people who I wrongly assume know my body better than I do. This lead to me admitting that when I was unable to leave my mobility scooter I had of course become so desperate for answers that I would have tried anything just to get better. It opened a general discussion and it was interesting to hear how vulnerable we become when we allow ourselves to yearn for what we no longer have.
|Mobility scooter mum banned from school run.|
We would never dream of saying to anyone else half of the things we tell ourselves. It is only when I chose to open up to new things that changes began. So I spent a lot of my time researching and reading. I looked for inspirational stories to lift my spirits and remind myself that everyone everywhere is on their own journey. Every day was a fight with myself and inner turmoil of emotions and I struggled to keep them under lock and key as I could not allow myself the self pity or face the shame of tears. I was the strong one , the one who was always smiling and busy and active . The mum who had open houses and organised themed balls. I dashed up and down the country helping set up charities and editing newsletters . My life had been full and yet it had been full of fake smiles for both media and TV crew and sadly even my own family.
|Support from my fellow spoonies!|
|With thanks to Alexa Wright for adding to my journey .|
|My sanskrit tattoo a constant reminder.|