I try to put a cheerful or amused spin on my illnesses, or downplay them, most of the time. In following support groups and Pinterest boards I’m starting to realize that maybe Fibromites have gotten a little too adept at these survival techniques, and maybe that’s part of why most people just don’t understand how we can be suffering so much. One of the blurbs really captured this so well and I wanted to feature it tonight, especially since I’ve been trying to be brutally honest lately about what I go through.
I’ve been called “The Ice Queen” more times than I can count and what most don’t realize is that a lot of the time I’m barely holding on to get through the day. Breaking down makes others uncomfortable, sometimes makes me sick, and makes me feel like I’m losing control of one of the few things I can still control, so I’d rather stay The Ice Queen most days. The girl in the mirror is covered in invisible bruises and staring into the darkness that she’s afraid may fill the rest of her life; screaming in desperation to be heard by just one person, yet no sound ever carries. The people outside the window, living life out in that big world, bustling about to make the most of their day, while chronically ill sufferers are often watching, longing to be out there with the “normals” instead of trapped by the prison of their bodies.
Hopefully someday we can all learn to quit sharing those polite white lies that makes an easier conversation; avoiding the bare truth that is uncomfortable for both sides. Maybe if we try just once today to be honest about our vulnerability we will get a step closer to truly understanding one another.
Georgia's Pampering 