A long week...

In fact, a very long week.

I try not to grumble about it when it happens because I feel bloody miserable enough as it is, but when I have a Fibromyalgia flare-up life for me turns to hell. Add to that a slip down the stairs on Russ's college folder that I didn't see, resulting in jarring an already very sore back and it just makes life even more bloody miserable.

On top of that, add a dose of fibro-fog and there is no hope for me.

If you don't know what Fibromyalgia is, here is a brief description of what I live with day to day:

Widespread muscle pain and fatigue plague those with fibromyalgia. People affected describe the pain as throbbing, aching, stabbing or shooting in nature. They will often say they 'ache all over'. It's often associated with stiffness, which, like the pain, may be worse first thing in the morning.  Those with the condition may become hypersensitive to pain, finding that even the slightest touch is painful, and that pain lasts longer than would be expected.

In addition to these characteristic symptoms, some people also experience other symptoms including such as difficulty sleeping, headaches, numbness, tingling and depression.
Another problem that those with fibromyalgia may experience is ‘fibro-fog’ which can cause difficulty making decisions, understanding things, and problems with memory and concentration.

Oh the joys of it all eh? One of the worst things about it for me is that it is invisible. No one can see it. I don't look any different when I have a flare to how I normally look, except when I try to move.  Then I start to hobble around like an 80 year old woman. I can only stand for 5 minutes at a time if I'm lucky. Washing the dishes can take as many as three or four attempts, and I don't have a very understanding husband. He seems to think that I should be able to work through it. If I tried harder I'd be able to manage a task. If it were only that simple. When your whole body is screaming at you and hurts like mad, there is no way you can push through a pain barrier and come out the otherside. The daft thing is, even typing hurts my fingers.

I am so bloody frustrated with this and it's driving me absolutely crazy after a week of it. I needed to vent and get it off my chest. Now I can smile when hubby comes home for his dinner and pretend that nothing is wrong, because that is what is expected.