I’ve hit a wall – the fibro has flared it’s ornery self and striped me of energy. My creative output is a bit puny.
The PROBLEM? – No one can tell and I ain’t getting no sympathy. I try not to be a whiner because I am sure others are as tired of my being tired as I am. This is the one place I can moan and grown cuz I know most of you won’t read it and are only interested in pictures of nude people . . .
charcoal sketch, 15 minutes
The weather is changing
my body rearranging
Help! I’m in a fibro flare
Everything hurts
including my hair.
Sharon Bonin Pratt is a writer, an artist and a dear friend. I think she also is psychic. I’ve been not feeling great and the subject of her last post was just what I needed. AND it’s dedicated to ME!!!! What an honor!
Shari inspired me to look for a smile (SEE THE VIDEO).
Here’s a sample from Sharon Bonin Pratt’s Ink Flare:
“Who can laugh without relaxing? Isn’t that why some of us (not me of course, and certainly not you, but other unnamed folks) pee their pants when laughing raucously? Losing all control is not a bad thing, even if you must change your whitie-dities, because when you’re having that much fun – who cares about all the rest? Oh, and it’s contagious! In a good way, not like the flu, but like having enough cup cakes for everyone in the world. So now I not only feel good inside my own world weary bod – I feel good because everyone around me also feels good. Motto for today: Spread cheer – laugh out loud.”
For those of you not familiar with fibromyalgia and other kinds of chronic conditions — auto immune included — I’m flaring.
Flare does NOT mean: I’m set on fire with gusto; Enraged; or my hips are getting wider (than they already are). I’m in a fibro-flare which does mean that my symptoms are loudly reminding me I’m not cured and I need to simmer down a bit.
And the stress that triggered the flare? – I got lost on the freeway. 
In hindsight it’s a bit like a Marx Brothers comedy on wheels. I started out going the right way, and thought it was wrong. So I got off the freeway and got back on the wrong way thinking it was the right way, but I was wrong.
Being the “man” that I am I hadn’t asked for directions when I started out. After almost ending up in Cuba I decided to pull off the freeway and find someone who could tell up from down and north from south. I pulled into a church parking lot. Church people wouldn’t steer me wrong! And a very nice gentleman “told me where to go”.
Back on the freeway, now heading in the right direction that I thought was wrong in the first place I noticed I was running very low on gas — both the car and me. Now my adrenaline was pumping. I anxiously looked for an off-ramp that led to civilization and gas stations. First off-ramp I struck oil. I was so relieved that it didn’t occur to me that I was the only car there — the station was closed and all I had was cash.
I could go on and on and on, much like my sojourn, but suffice it to say I found an open station further down the freeway and paid $4.03 a gallon!
2 1/2 hours later I was home.
Now I’m in a fibro-flare just because of a ride on the freeway filled with more stress than my system could accommodate*
Exhausted, my whole body hurting – The price of gas is much higher than even I thought.
*In many, if not most . . . or all, chronic conditions the body is chronically in a stress state. Added stressors, even small ones, throws the system into an even higher stage of red alert and symptoms become elevated. Kinda like if you’ve had an injury to a joint (body part, that is). At rest the joint feels fine but if you tax that joint, sometimes even years later, it will hurt.
