For those of you new to my blog (er, Max’s blog) I have an “affliction” due to alien possession. It’s called fibromyalgia. Fibromyalgia is a misnomer dating back to ancient times when the medical establishment liked to name things with Greek roots because it sounds more scientific. The rest of you who know my whole weary tale can skip down to the red print.
My main symptoms of this central nervous system disorder are depression, allodynia a good Greek name for whole body pain, mental fog (where are the Greeks when they are really needed – FOG is a soft, floaty description for mental muddle, mental muck) and exhaustion. There are many other symptom since the central nervous system impacts every system. I’ve been one of the lucky ones where the aliens decided to lay heavy on the depression and exhaustion and go light on the fog and pain.
I’ve been blessed that my symptoms have been helped for several years – not eliminated – through the miracles of modern meds. That was until I had to go off (that’s an interesting image) my miracle drug Mirapex because one of the side effects was narcolepsy (another Greek name). Unfortunately, I was awake enough of the time to indulge in another side effect – compulsivity. I ate obsessively, compulsively like an addict. Again I was blessed that I stopped the drug before it led to compulsive gambling and sex – I kid you not!
Which brings me to the present. The good news is I no longer fall asleep at stop lights or brushing my teeth.The bad news is I’m EXHAUSTED. pooped-out-of-my-mind. In the morning I wake up exhausted after sleeping 10 hours. So after a few hours I take a 2 hour nap. It’s almost impossible to describe being exhausted without doing anything that is exhausting. I’m NOT TIRED, mind you. Exhausted.
I’ve stopped exercising as the thought of it exhausts me more. I’ve reverted to self medicating myself with anything that contains refined sugar and/or white flour searching for an energy pick me up. I stare out into space thinking of all the things I should be doing, need & want to be doing and get more exhausted thinking about how I will feel exhausted doing them.
My in-basket has now grown to over 300 e-mails not attended to. I forget to call back clients who are forgiving and wonderful as always. I avoid calling friends, not wanting to recount the exhausting litany of reasons why I’ve not called nor responded to them. I don’t walk Max who patiently waits for permission to walk himself.
I woke up this morning, exhausted as usual, and said to myself. “Judy, this now calls for desperate measures.”
However, I’m too exhausted after writing all this so I’ll tell you what my desperate measures are tomorrow. I’m going to lay down now and get in another nap before it’s time for bed.