Reflections on a day

As I sit here and reflect on the events of this day I am exhausted.  I haven't slept well the last few days (no big surprise there) and when I am extra exhausted I am even more in tune with the environment around me.  That's probably because I'm quieter and therefore I listen more.  I spent time with friends today and that didn't go well.  It takes so much energy to socialize and when the karma isn't good that sucks even more energy out of me.  The karma wasn't good today and I struggled to make sense of that.  I spent some time thinking about all the events of the day.  I had an unsettling feeling after departing company with these friends.  I think one issue is that these friends don't understand fibromyalgia.  It can be difficult to keep up with people that don't know what it is like to be sick with this disease.  After all "I don't look sick".  I always seem to be struggling to try to keep up, but I'm always lagging behind.  That's unbelievable when I put so much energy into this, but the result isn't good.  The result is sadness and grief.  I think that many people with fibromyalgia grieve at least a little every day.  But getting back to the bad karma . . . as I sat with my friends and listened to the conversation, there was a whole lot of bitching and gossiping going on and as a result everyone seemed a little edgy.  The tension in the air was palpable.  As I studied each face they seemed to be oblivious to the tension.  When I was asked what I had been doing the past week I explained that I had been working to get all the Christmas decorations boxed and put back on the shelves in the garage.  One woman exclaimed that it's about time I got that done since today is the 10th of the month.  Totally clueless!  I was wishing I was back home snug in my jammies watching birds, squeezing my kitty and vegging out.  Sometimes trying to socialize just isn't worth it.

Symbols of who we once were

Over the years I have sorted through my belongings and made decisions about what I should keep and what I should move along.  I have always believed that if I no longer needed something that it's a good thing to let go of it and allow it to go to a new home.  There seems to be no good reason to keep something I no longer use.  But as I have gotten older and this chronic illness has taken its toll on my body it has become more and more difficult to let go of certain belongings.  This recent move to a home with less storage than my previous home has presented the dilemma of purging more belongings than I was prepared for.  I have come to realise there are things that I cling to despite the fact I haven't used them in 6 years.  Even the 5 year test seems to be a little long.  If I haven't used something in 5 years it's unlikely I will ever use it again.  So why on earth am I so reluctant to part with these things that have no obvious use?  I haven't used my cross country skis in 6 years and I'm living in a place where suitable snow is not generally available.  Due to my health status it is unlikely I will ever ski again.  That's a stark reality for me.  So do I just accept that reality, sell my skis and move on?

I have always been so rooted in reality and I learn life's lessons from my life experiences and then keep moving forward.  It just seems that spending too much time reminiscing leaves people stuck in the past, which prevents them from enjoying the present and creating new life memories.  But when the future may not hold new adventures and physical decline is the expectation, what provides that quality of life that keeps moving us forward?  If I let go of my skis is that a statement of defeat?  Those skis are symbols for me.  They symbolize a time when I was able to overcome this illness in an act of personal rebellion and rise beyond its limitations and feel normal again for at least a short time.  Of course I always paid the price for the level of activity and effort required while cross country skiing, but it kept me sane and grounded . . . and hopeful.  But this day is a new day for me and going cross country skiing is no longer an option for me.  To let go of a symbol of a more vigorous time creates a sense of grief.  But isn't that something we all experience if we are lucky enough