the nerve of my nerves.

on my way home from class last night, as i stood on the subway platform waiting for the a train, there are a couple of starving artists playing strings. they were damn good; in any other situation, they'd be quite soothing.

from the time i left work to the time i got to school, i had this really uneasy feeling; my breaths were becoming short and shallow. class went fine. great, actually. i was in my zone, drawing for hours, and there was really good energy in the class. for the commute home, that feeling showed itself again, and proved it was here to stay. on the train, my breaths became shorter and more shallow, and they continued as i got in the car with darrel and drove the rest of the way. by the time he pulled up to the house, i was extremely weak: he had to carry my bag to the house because it was loaded with sketchbooks and art supplies. i pressed my body against the door because i barely had enough energy to close it behind him, and as my mom asked me what was wrong, i broke down and cried. my legs got weaker, i collapsed in her arms, and i cried.

she just stood there, holding me.

and i cried.

and cried.

and cried.

she brought me into the kitchen and tried to get me to eat something; i had no appetite, i still could barely breathe. she tied my hair up in a bun, helped me downstairs to my basement apartment, undressed me, and got me into bed. she plugged in my humidifier, put on my white noise app, and that was my night.

11p, the typical fibro tingling came on stronger as ever, and i cried myself to sleep.

this morning, she crawled into my bed and held me some more. about an hour later, she called my job and left a voicemail for my office manager saying i wouldn't be in because i wasn't feeling well. her calling can either go pretty good, or really, really bad.

but if i can barely breathe to talk, what am i supposed to do?

i feel like i had ninety anxiety attacks...

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the whole time my mom was with me last night, she kept saying she now has to take care of her husband and her only child. it really hurts my heart to see my mom have to go through all this, but i love her for being strong enough to cope.

now i'm in my bed; my legs are still numb, and i'm hungry. walking is the farthest thing from my mind right now because every single muscle in my body is sore. my dad is upstairs. i really hope his home attendant is coming today, because i really can't take care of both of us

i'll probably be on the computer between sleeping, eating, and crying, either watching hulu or getting some design work done.

natural living.

my mom called me at work the other day and simply said "you're going to stop taking the doctor's medications. i'm buying you things and i you're going to try it because i want you to feel better."

this is what she came home with. i love that woman.

the big reveal..

so i got a new tattoo!

back on august7th, i posted this pic:

well my darling alex asked me about it, and after explaining it, i decided it would be a great tattoo. it would be a great reminder that no matter how bad my day is going or how much pain i'm in. i need to stay strong.

my little cousin chanica works at greene avenue tattoo in bed stuy. after work yesterday, i met up with a few of them and we all went.

she was happy to call herself my support system for that moment.

white boy did i great job! he was very talkative, which helped me relax a lot more.

the pain was definitely not as bad as i thought it would be. the pd tulip on my back hurt a hell of a lot more!

and it's done! thanks white boy! i'll be back soon =]

here's a sneak peek!!

here's a hint: i posted about it once before!

more details coming soon!

f#*%ing fibromyalgia

so i've been posting on my twitter page about wanting guest bloggers to share their experiences, and along came erin. our initial conversation was about keeping lint out of my natural hair; it was just a coincidence that we both have fibromyalgia. here's her story:

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as a guest blogger, i feel like i have to watch my colorful language as i try to describe the joys of fibromyalgia. for anyone who doesn't know, sometimes all the profanity in the world does not help.

 

it's an invisible, torturous, all consuming pain in the ass. when my symptoms first started to interfere with my daily life, i swore i was losing my mind. i couldn't explain how, all of a sudden, everything hurt. some days, it's just between my shoulder blades and the tops of my shoulders. there are nights when my legs feel like i've run an ultra-marathon. at times, i feel like a goddamn elephant is sitting on top of my head getting a piggy back as i try not to have a meltdown at my desk. i'm not in pain because i am depressed; but there are times where i am utterly depressed from the pain.

 

me, the life of the party. the girl who works two jobs and goes to school and parties all weekend and volunteers and blah blah blah; that same me can sometimes be found in the bathroom at work, hands on the counter staring in the mirror and wishing that the ground would come up and swallow me whole so that i can get some peace for a change.

 

yes, i'm glad i finally have a diagnosis. there's actually a name for the BS that i'm going through-- which means, i'm not crazy, i'm not "just tired/achy/irritable/exaggerating." there are other people who go through the exact same thing, and sometimes, there are things that may help.

 

i went to an acupuncturist the other day, only for him to tell me that i have fibromyalgia because i "think" i have it. and the minute i stop "thinking" it, it will go away and life will go back to normal. *head starts to swell from instant defensive angry reaction to this ignorance*

 

ok, so my hands will stop swelling? the chronic fatigue will magically cease? i will be able to go back to the gym without nearly dying? i can detangle my curly hair by myself without bursting into tears of pain and frustration? GREAT! thanks bud!

 

enough of my sarcastic rant ... there are days when i feel like all i do is complain-- which i absolutely hate. i hate listening to other people bitch and moan and i certainly do not enjoy hearing myself do it either. but because fibromyalgia is so invisible.. i feel that if i don't complain, nobody will know that i am legitimately in agony. those who know me see it in my eyes. but i hide it well, most days on purpose.

 

sometimes, another flight of stairs will mean i am going to pay for them for a week. at times, i'm silently staring at my 6inch stilettos because the vain me knows that i absolutely cannot go out on the town in flats. the other me knows that i will feel like i am wearing daggers up through my legs for four hours, and puts the shoes i so desperately love back on the shelf. lest i spend three days walking on tiptoes and praying for a miracle. or the zombie apocalypse. anything to make it stop.

 

i know i have not "accepted" my fibromyalgia. i have not come to terms with pacing myself. i don't feel ready to pace myself. i'm 21 years old! i want to be able to strut my stuff in my fabulous shoes, and i'm not ready to give that up. i miss the me that wasn't in pain.. but i'm finding her hard to remember.

 

phew! all this typing has my fingers burning. no joke, i think i need to go lay down. and i f@$#ing hate it!

 

 as we say on twitter, #thatisall.

 

 

ps - for those who don't have fibromyalgia: i'm having a flare today; right now. most days, i am the sweetest, most optimistic girl you'd ever want to meet! *cheesy grin*

this young lady tweeted alex about my blog. when i diagnosed, i didn't have anyone. the support group at the hospital did absolutely nothing for me. knowing that i can help another fibromyalgia patient is all i need; it's an absolutely amazing feeling.