Cue the Violins

So now that my blog has been broken in, good and proper, I figure it's time for that requisite post about me.

I started this for a few reasons. I like to write, but for some reason my hands are failing me and typing has gotten easier than 'writing' in a traditional sense. I need somewhere to talk about this whole FMS thing, because quite honestly I think my family and friends (this is your cue to stop reading if you don't want to hear it) are probably sick to death of hearing about it.

So here goes. Last warning. Turn back now if you don't want to hear another word about Fibromyalgia Syndrome (FMS).

I was just diagnosed with this in January, but my rheumatologist thinks I've probably had it to some degree my entire life. Being diagnosed means that I finally have some relief in knowing it really isn't all in my head and there are options to treat it. Being diagnosed with this means there is no cure, no understanding, and some of it really is all in my head.

You can google it for all the information you never wanted to know about it. But from a real human's standpoint, this just sucks. I wake up every single morning not knowing what exactly is going to hurt, yet knowing something is going to hurt. I don't know whether my stomach is going to be cooperative that day, or if it's going to make me believe dying on the can really can happen. I don't know if I'm going to be mentally 'there' that day, or if I'm going to forget that I sat down to blog by the time I sat down to blog. I don't know if the anxiety is going to make an appearance or not. And by make an appearance I mean grab ahold of my train of thought and run away, make my heart beat so fast it feels like it's going to leave my body, and make me have hot flashes that leave me soaked and freezing. I don't know if I'm going to be in good spirits, or crying over the oddly pretty colored pills I have to take each day. (Seriously. There is a purple one, some pink ones, and some white ones. They color coordinate with the weekly dark green one.)

The worst part of it all is... I don't know if I'm going to have the energy to cope with it each day. It is mentally and physically draining. Not to mention emotionally. I'm on my personal roller coaster and I am ready to get the eff off of it already. I really was hoping I had something fixable. I was prepared for surgery, PT, injections, you name it. I was ready for it. I wasn't ready when my rheum doc said, "This is not going to kill you, but it is probably going to cripple you."

So lets recap. Hello, I'm me. I 29 years old and I have FMS. There is a great 'Letter to Normals' that describes this better than I could have ever hoped to.