Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Little Devil On My Shoulder
My life after the big move is slowly picking up speed. Most of the house is unpacked. If it's not unpacked, we probably don't use it. We're doing projects. We're going to church socials. We're meeting people and trying to make friends. I'm getting back into the normal routine of actually cooking, which means grocery shopping, lugging groceries in, cleaning the dishes and then there's all the trash and recycling that accumulates from it. Oh, and the compost that my husband is now doing, set that aside for him. Of course you all know about laundry and keeping a house clean, there's no story in that. My pain is starting to come back as my lazy days slip away. I've felt colds coming that never came. Allergies to nothing in particular. Aches and pains and invisible rashes. I don't know if it's just because I'm getting busy again. Maybe I've found my fine line of what's too busy. What I've been doing most lately is getting to know my new city and the people who live here and trying to make new friends. And realizing that it's a lot harder to make friends post diagnosis of Fibromyalgia than it was to just keep the friends I already had after I had been diagnosed. Does that make sense to anyone? Here I was living life and I had my friends, then BAM, Fibromyalgia. My sweet and gracious friends adapt and we all go on living happily ever after. Until I move. Now I need new friends. It's not that my old friends aren't there. They are. They just can't go get lunch or have girls' night when the hubby works late. Finding friends with Fibromyalgia is hard. I've been scrapbooking with a group at a local scrapbook store. Okay, I only went to one scrapbook night from 4-11pm. I've participated in two card swaps. That's 3 full days that I've bent over my work table within one month's time. My craft that I love so much causes flare-ups, but at the same time its worth it. I love it. I do, but it hurts my neck and back and gets my migraines going. And my right elbow really hurts later from all the movement because I'm right handed. It's also difficult for me to get all my gear in and out of my house, car, into the store, back into the car and house again. That's a lot of lifting for me. One of the girls there actually invited me over to her house and I feel so stupid because here I need a friend and the first thing that went through my head was "it's so hard to move my stuff." But she has two kids and can't come over to my house. I feel like I may have just sacrificed that relationship before it even started. And then two other girls invited me to start walking with them come fall. Well, I know that I can not walk, as in walk at a speed intended for exercise. And even if I could, I couldn't do it regularly. They already knew I had Fibro and, yes, I told them that was why. It's like Fibro is a little red devil sitting on my shoulder whispering in my ear, reminding me, "you're not normal. You're not like everybody else." And it's true. I may look like you. I may act like you. But I can't do the things you do. And now that little devil is standing between me and potential friends, causing little road blocks along the way. I don't want them to think that I'm just a wimp or gotta have it my way. This is new territory for me. Back home everyone knew me and saw me get so sick over the years and then saw me get diagnosed. It was a journey together. They still ask me how I'm doing. But here what am I supposed to do. Do I talk casually about Fibromyalgia? Or is it my dirty little secret? Should I let people know up front "Hey, I would love to, but that's really hard for me because. . . " or what? I don't want to chase people off. I also don't want to come off as a Fibro Freak Lobbyist or something. I'm still just a person.