Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Blogging is new to me so I'm not sure what I'm doing, but I'm going to try and share my thoughts.

My best bud, Karen, who helped me setup this page is planning to tell friends that my blog is out there for viewing. I'm not sure who would want to read what I have to write, but by Karen being my personal advertising campaign, it forces me to actually blog something. I guess I've been rattling on too much about how I want to write again, so she's trying to help me accomplish that goal...maybe even make me accountable to my so-called desires; though what's wrong with whining about something you want to do without ever really applying yourself to doing it??? I mean I have a number of excuses I can come up with for not putting my fingers on a keyboard or picking up a pen. Fibromyalgia is a big one. I deal with pain a lot, I'm always tired, and my head waffles in and out of this dense fog that affects my focus and memory, among other things. It's appropriately named fibro fog. When those excuses aren't enough, I can come up with more, like being busy. There's all kinds of things that fill up my day...eating, checking my email, washing dishes, letting the dogs out, retrieving the postal mail, and looking out the window to see if weather. com has predicted the correct weather for my area. The list is really endless! you probably already know, most of those excuses are just excuses and not great reasons for putting off the writing that is in my heart to do. The real truth is, I have trouble sharing myself with others or even putting my thoughts onto a page that may not even be read. I'm an introvert at heart and grew up with trust issues, and then when my Mom died a few years ago, I dug myself into a deeper's how I survived. This last year, I've been trying to force myself out of my safety zone but it's still a scary place for me; and more often than not, I want to run back into my hole and hide. It's even scarier to put my inner self onto a written page. Writing this blog is a way to step outside myself; or as my husband, Marty, described it today, I'm stepping into a snowy pit of lions and facing my fear...the fear of being hurt, the fear of failure, the fear of facing the difficult losses in my life that seem too hard to bear, the fear of me not being enough in some way...the fear of fear.

So bear with me as I write, or don't write. It's a process that God, my husband, my family, and good friends like Karen are helping me through.

I was laughing with my husband, Marty, last night about my memory issues, telling him he didn't know the hell I lived in...the hell of how my brain functions--or lack thereof. I told him that I should write a book about it. He said the reason there's no books out about that subject now is because others with fibromyalgia have the same problem as I do...they think about what they're going to do, and then before they can grab a pen or get to the computer, they forget their plan and have moved on to their next mindless thought. He knows me so well! :-)