Hello!

Good day to you all!
I hope you have all been well.
After many days of bitter cold weather here in the Windy City, I made my mind up to do several things indoors which needed to be done but, of course, never get done. I was having several, “good” days in a row so I decided to make the best of them. Well, you guessed it; I am suffering greatly for it. Once again, I am in a great deal of pain and close to tears. I wasn’t sure if I would get around to writing this week. Then I remembered something; what has gotten me through all of these years is remembering how what are now my, “bad” days were once my, “good” days. That’s right, as lousy as I feel today, it once was a day I was grateful I was not suffering so badly. Thinking about it that way, I have come a long way and it is a blessing. But, I’ll be honest here; I’m angry today. I’m sick and tired of the pain and suffering I must endure every time I am able to function or enjoy life.

I talk a lot about being positive, but, like the rest of you, I’m a human being, not a saint. Fifteen-and-a-half years is a long time to have to put up with the pain of chronic fatigue syndrome and severe fibromyalgia. And, it’s ok to do that sometimes. It’s ok not to be ok sometimes. It’s a tall order never to be angry or depressed when you are suffering. Many will say to stop, “feeling sorry for myself” or to, “change my thinking” or,”be more positive.” Positivity is fine; it is why I am still here after all this time. If not, I would be a long time pushing up daisies by now.

I think most people who say these things mean well, but they don’t hear themselves and they really have no idea how mean and cruel they are. What they don’t realize is how devaluing these comments are. Sure, attitude is a lot of what gets us through the day, but it is not everything. What people don’t realize is people who are stricken with these debilitating diseases lose a big part of themselves. It’s almost like a death, it’s such a huge loss. We have lost ourselves; the people we once were are gone, and they are gone for good. At least, that’s how I feel. The woman I was at forty-three years old is gone, never to return. And, like a death, it needs to be mourned. I don’t believe we ever stop mourning those we lose, but rather the way we mourn them changes. I have discovered the same thing through the loss of myself; I still mourn the woman I once was, but I do it differently.

Those are my thoughts for today. I hope this was helpful as I am really not feeling well and I need to sign off now.

I hope you all have a wonderful week!

Love & Hugs,
Beckie

http://beckiebutcher.com

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