My journey with fibromyalgia began in November of 2011. After living with severe pain in my legs & feet for over a year, getting worse as time went on, my husband convinced me to see a Dr. and figure out what could be wrong. I was tired all the time and felt like I was living in a fog. Whatever was going on was really interfering with my life & my ability to be a parent & keeper of my home.
At the time, I was 33 and stay at home mom of a 13, 10 and 2 year old. Every day I would wake up and feel like I’d been hit by a truck. Everything hurt. I felt swollen and achy from my feet to my fingertips, up to my neck, jaw and top it off with a headache some days. My joints were the worst. I could tell what kind of day it was going to be by how much it hurt to walk down the stairs. On the bad days I felt like my bones would snap as I took one step at a time gripping the railing for dear life. I would get kids off to school and then sit on the couch and try to wake up for around 2 hours, or go back to bed for a few hours depending on how late my 2 year old would sleep. Once I actually felt awake around lunch time, I could usually get ONE thing done during the day. One errand, clean One area of the house, One playdate. It wasn’t good if I tried to do more. I often pushed myself though. Just get one more thing done, or run in the store really quick. That always led straight to a crash. I was always forgetting meetings, or phone calls to make, appointments, or some other household tasks, or cancelling plans because I just couldn’t leave the house. I tried to play and engage with my 2 year old, but more often than not, I couldn’t do much. I couldn’t even take him to the park. Just the thought of that made me tired.For me, when I say I feel “tired” that usually means that my entire body is SCREAMING at me to “Stop Stop Stop!!! Sit down! Rest! You can’t go on!” It’s an all-consuming feeling of being overwhelmed and exhausted. My mind would fog over & I was done. Out.
I don’t know how I made it through dinner time most days. Usually around 4pm I would start to head downhill. Just in time for the older kids to come home and need help with homework (that I couldn’t do because I couldn’t even think) or be driven to some activity. The pain in my legs was more than I could bear by that time of day. My husband would come home from work and watch me as I literally cried just standing up & walking some nights. Forget cleaning up dinner. I would park myself on the couch after eating and there I would stay until bed time where I would become so stiff and sore it hurt to move. I was exhausted, yet I would dread going to sleep because I knew how bad I was going to feel when I woke up.
This is how I lived for a year. Feeling like a failure at life. Ineffective for ministry. Wondering if this was just “getting older.” I was ready for answers. I was ready to have my life back. I had hope. I know that God can heal. I myself have experienced a miracle in emotional healing. I just didn’t know how long my journey with this would be. Would you like to walk out of the fog with me?