Hiatus of pain




  1. a pause or gap in a sequence, series, or process.

I've been on a pain hiatus. From the blog. From yoga. From friends. It almost feels like from life. January has been a one-two punch of one thing after another. Fatigue so extreme that on some days it feels as though every movement I take is through quick sand. Fibro pain so intense that on some days it's a struggle to get through basic daily tasks like showering, getting dressed, lifting my arms to throw my mess of curls into a haphazard bun. Low back and sciatic pain so searing that at times it actually makes me start sweating, and bending over for such luxuries as putting on socks or boots now turns into a contortionist struggle, and my Sunday past time of painting my toe nails has been forgone. 

Coupled with some crazy shit at work, January has been rough. Really rough. I feel disconnected, on pause, separated from doing the things I love. But I'm not without hope.

I'm at a low point, for sure. But I still have a lot to be thankful for, and I often find stopping to call attention to what I'm grateful for helps to lift me up and fill my soul with light, so here we go:

1. My boyfriend has been incredibly kind, supportive, and thoughtful during this stretch, often taking on tasks I normally do around the house that he knows would cause me extra pain right now, or offering to do the grocery shopping run solo because he knows the laps up and down the isles would totally deplete me. 

2. Maddy seems to sense my pain, and give extra cuddles and affection as her own brand of medicine. And it often works, on the spirit at least, if not the body. 

3. I have amazing health insurance that allows me access to the medicines, therapies, diagnostics, and specialists that I need. My health care isn't limited by a lack of insurance, or insurance that covers so little I can't afford the rest. This is rare, and luxury that many with chronic illness don't have. For that I am extremely lucky, and I am grateful every day. 

4. Friends and family who bolster my spirit, empathize with my pain, but don't let me dwell in it. You are my lifelines. I love you and I count on you. 

5. The Real Housewives of Wherever - When I need mindless entertainment to take my mind off the pain, I can always count on you. You go perfectly with a glass of wine, and for that hour you distract me a little from the pain. Cheers to you. 

Even at the worst of times, this list could go on and on. I hope this might encourage you to start your own gratitude list the next time your chips are down and your pain is on the rise.  

"It's always darkest before the dawn." - Florence and the Machine