Observing You

Dear Fibro,

Today, I feel like you are hovering all around me, like you’ve fashioned yourself into a suit of scouring pads, hugging me tightly at every turn. I can’t remove you while you scrub into me. Abrasive to my peace of mind. Bruising me with invisible bruises. 

I feel the weight of you with each move I try to make. Whether I sit, stand or lie down, each position brings its own individual challenges — stabs, jabs, or prickles of pain. Shooting pain or radiating pain. A never-ending menu of surprises.

I stare at you in the mirror sometimes, and it’s like staring at myself but more elusive.

This week, I noticed that I have worn a hole in my sheet with restless legs in pain at night.

I have no questions for you now — just making these observations so that I can remember these days.

~Nicole

Fibro & This Body

Dear Fibro,

You know I’m at a bit of a loss for what to do to lose weight with you around. I’ve gained weight because of the meds I take to try to keep you happy, and I am at an all-time high weight-wise. It’s discouraging. It’s not that I think I need to be a specific size or look a certain artificial way, but I want to feel comfortable in my own skin, and it’s been a while since I’ve felt that. Working out is difficult and painful (not surprising, since even simple tasks like showering and doing laundry are difficult and painful), but I am determined to find a way, to blaze a path somehow to step back from this precipice and take responsibility for the numbers and my difficulty with myself on this issue. Will you help me, please?

– Nicole