Well, let's see... I'm on dose 4 of Nortriptyline for the new ball and chain in my life, fibromyalgia. I wouldn't say life is better per se, just a little different. I know, I know. I'm only on day 4. I need to give it time to build to a therapeutic level.
Some days have been good and some days have been meh. I'm lucky that so far I haven't really felt any adverse reactions from the medication except for a mild dizziness at times. I did have some nausea this morning but very mild in comparison to what I normally have been feeling every morning for almost a year now.
Yesterday and today my knees are bothering me, and I was unable to make it up the stairs to wake my daughters up for school today. Luckily I was able to coax my oldest out of bed by telling her I couldn't come up this morning.
Otherwise I have hours where I feel pretty good overall. Then I will have a chunk of time where I ache, but not severe pain in more than 6-7 spots like before I started this medication. For the most part I'm back to having 3-4 level pain (out of 10) at times in several spots of my body, but I have been living with that for many years so it's manageable.
Emotionally I feel very isolated, I have had a few people tell me they are available if I need to talk. As with the pain of my childhood, I know from experience that my life is unrelatable for the most part. I have struggled with having been physically and mentally abused by my mother, sexually abused by my father, infertility...
I understand that most people cannot grasp what I explain. I get the general feeling that the things in my past are too crazy, too horrific for most people... and fibromyalgia has made me feel this way once again.
In the end, people ask the questions but rarely really want to hear the answers. So I have learned to plaster on a happy face. Not many people get to see behind the curtain to the real me which is fluffed, powdered and painted for the general masses... for public consumption. I self deprecate and joke to hide my pain, but I have been doing this for so long it is my song and dance, my vaudeville production. I find myself hovering just at the edge of despair and try to go about my day as I would have before my pain was given a name.
What I find hilarious on a cosmic level is this: I have for many, many years swallowed my pain, distracted myself from the depths of depression, avoided "professional help" because I do not want to be lumped in with the likes of my mother. I do not want to be diagnosed with mental illness. I do not want to be told I have problems and that I need to be on medication. I most certainly have never wanted to walk around in a drug induced haze to numb the pain.
And yet here I am... on an antidepressant for this. I have laughed bitterly about this to myself. I can do nothing but cry out to God for some sort of solace and relief, and even though I know ( and have known in my 42 years, and the knowing has kept me from falling into the blackest of depressions) that there are all sorts of people out there in this world- especially little ones- that are going through so much worse than what I have experienced in my life.
It makes me sad and thankful. It makes me pray on occasion, especially when I happen to hear the unspeakable things going on outside my little bubble.
It brings me to my knees and I thank God for the breath I draw, for this life that I have, for a man that loves me even though I have fallen short in so many ways, for children that I was told I would never have.
So excuse me for a moment, pardon my dust while I sort through the storm. I will find a place of quiet safety, I will be glad for all that I have... mostly. :) It's not going to be rainbows and Disney animals all the time folks but even now I am swimming my way to the surface for a breath of air.
Excuse me while I let love and light build to therapeutic levels.
I am still trying to change my point of view, one positive thought at a time.