I was notified by WordPress yesterday that I’ve been blogging for 6 years. I knew the anniversary was sometime in October, I just wasn’t positive of the exact date.
I used to be able to share every detail of my life without much of a problem. But nowadays, the idea gives me a bad case of the nerves.
Me no likey being open, raw and honest anymore.
Life changes…people come, they go, they break your heart, they stay, they love you, they hate you, summer turns to winter, children get older, suicidal urges take up brain space, handfuls of pills are taken with sips of Aquafina, husbands cheat…the earth continues to rotate and reality television stars become president.
I won’t be a drama queen and say that I’m closing up shop, but my days of posting on a regular basis are over with. If you don’t see me around much, I can promise you (about 87%) that I’m just peachy fucking keen.
I haven’t been a fan of Madonna since like 1988, but to steal the title of one of her songs, this used to be my playground.
I rarely write about fibromyalgia anymore.
I think it could be due to the fact that I’ve fully accepted my reality, that for whatever purpose, I have this disease for life. I keep up with the latest news and information, but I no longer obsess over it.
I’ve grown accustomed to its nasty little face.
To the groundhog burrowing under my skin muscle spasms (hard to explain), the extreme fatigue, the pain of unknown origin, the charley horses and, of course, the brain farts.
All of it, from the minuscule symptoms to the big mama ones.
Hark, what is that wretched sound? Tis only moi, screaming my ever-loving head off.
I was recently diagnosed with gout and much to my doctors delight, there’s a blood-test for that. I was given steroids that worked quickly, but once the 5 days worth of them ran out, it came back, again lighting up my big toe with a blowtorch. Now I’m on something else, but I was warned that one of the probable side effects could cause loose bowels.
I’ve become honestly so numb to what my body likes to do to amuse itself.
Bitching and complaining won’t do me any good, so I just try to keep it as light as possible, making my little quips to steer the conversational direction away from myself.
I am a bona-fide quip master.