On this, the penultimate day of the year, I took a good look at the posts in this blog and one word kept resonating in my head:
Misery.
And another:
Doom.
And another:
Depression.
FibroBlog is depressingly miserable and doom-laden.
So, in keeping with the tradition upheld at this time of year, I resolve to cheer up FibroBlog and make it the blog it was supposed to be - stories of success against adversity, news of research into treatments, medical breakthroughs and positivity!
It was quite obvious that the writer (me) was suffering from some sort of negativity implant.
You can get an update on how I'm feeling over at my personal blog My Fibro Blog, but from January FibroBlog will be about positivity and hope.
And to kick things off in a positive way here's a lovely picture of 2015 being crushed to death by 2016. Happy New Year to all followers and visitors.
Gary
I used to be quite a fit and healthy young man. From the age of sixteen I
was forced into activities I wouldn't ordinarily have undertaken. Up to
sixteen I avoided any physical activity because I thought I couldn't do
them with any flare or skill like my schoolmates could. I was crap at
everything - running - always came last, swimming - always came last,
football - always last to be picked, cricket - ditto, hockey - ditto.
Sport + Gary McArthur = Disaster.
At sixteen I joined the police
cadets and everything changed. I knew it would and I wanted it to.
Suddenly I was challenging my attitude to physical activities as
something to be shunned by forcing myself (or being forced) to undertake
them on a daily basis. Granted I still wasn't any good at them, but I
tried to break my mindset towards them. The police force got me hiking,
abseiling, camping, canoeing, mountain climbing, cross-country running,
orienteering, weight training and partaking in almost every other sport
known to man in much the same way as the army trains a team of dropouts
into soldiers. The police force instilled discipline and order and gave
me a massive sense of achievement. In amongst all of the legal
definitions and laws and regulations the police force also gave me good
health which lasted me well into my thirties. Conversely, it also taught
me how to drink like a fish! (but never lose my self control) and
that's another story for another time.
From sixteen until my
mid-thirties I considered myself to be a fit and healthy individual -
not obsessive, but I remained lean and strong and enjoyed outdoor
activites like hiking. I'd bump into former school mates who'd let
themselves go by piling on the pounds and I felt quietly smug that I
hadn't descended into obesity. I was no longer embarrassed by my slender
build as I had been at school.
Then.
Then I suddenly
died. It wasn't gradual or slowly degenerative. It was overnight. I woke
one day with backache. It was 2003. Between then and now I haven't had a
single day without pain. Obviously, there have been good and bad, as
well as bad and really bad, days, but every day I have had some level of
pain in my back. Sometime after the backache began I started to get
pain all over my body - arms. legs, head, neck, feet, fingers, toes,
hips, knees, and sometime after those symptoms started I began to get
the internal ones, IBS, Crohn's, you know the drill. Fibro affects us
all in pretty much the same way and a whole myriad of different strokes
for different folks.
The point is this, on that day in 2003 when I
awoke with backache, my former self had died in its sleep. Over the
course of the next thirteen years, as each symptom struck, I gradually
became the ghost of the Gary McArthur I used to be.
The
physically fit Gary McArthur became the disabled Gary McArthur, and over
the course of 2015 the Gary McArthur who was always positive and happy
go lucky and forward thinking and strong, became the depressed Gary
McArthur, the negative and whining and hopeless Gary McArthur, and it
was at this point in my life that I finally met, or recognised, the
ghost of my former self - that skinny and spotty little sixteen year old
boy, who'd been scared of all physical activities who, through sheer
determination, had turned it all around, who'd laughed in the face of
his fears and grown to love them (without ever being any good at any of
them) was dead. He died when I gave up being 'well'. He died when I gave
up fighting. He died when I lost hope during the course of 2015 and
became depressed. He died despite reading hundreds of blog posts by
other fibromyalgia 'survivors', all with a positive message that laughed
in the face of their illness. He died when I stopped laughing in the
face of mine.
But, fear not, for that skinny little sixteen year old's spirit is still inside me and he will live again.
I've
set myself a goal for 2016: To find the spirit and the grit and the
determination and the hope I had as a sixteen year old boy, and laugh
once more in the face of my illnesses. To challenge myself in the way I
did when I joined a career path I knew I wasn't suited to, simply to
face my fear of all things physical.
FibroMen would like to wish all our readers a very Merry Christmas and A Peaceful and Pain-free New Year.
Christmas is a wonderful time of year. A time for living, a time for believing, a time for trusting, not deceiving, love and laughter and joy ever after, ours for the taking,..... ahem! sorry, slipped into Cliff Richard mode there, but Christmas is definitely a great occasion best spent with family and friends. Great nights in, great nights out, fun, laughter and yes, joy ever after. (Cliff was so right!)
But what's Christmas like when you're in constant pain?
I've spent thirteen Christmasses in varying degrees of agony. Christmas 2002 was spent looking after my heavily pregnant wife - pushing her around town in a wheelchair because the baby had decided to settle on a nerve somehow. A year later and I'd been diagnosed with fibromyalgia, a condition which I didn't fully appreciate at the time. Nor did I have time to. A new baby to care for, a wife with post natal depression and anxiety to care for, a house to look after and a full time job, there was no time to think about what I was doing to myself.
I started coming down with every condition known to mankind - flu, bronchitis, cold after cold, stomach disturbances, and pain. So much pain. My back was the worst, lower to middle, aching constantly, but I fought on and each Christmas I stood at the oven cooking the family feast. No matter how much pain I was in. I'll be doing so this year too. My wife and I promised ourselves that we'd book somewhere for this Christmas but her mother wouldn't hear of it, so it'll be just as it always is.
Don't get me wrong, I enjoy Christmas, and I love cooking the meal, but once in a while I'd like to give my body a rest from it. Thankfully we don't have a massive family descending upon us each year - but, sometimes, it would be nice to, so that we could go to them!
Also, since 2003 we've had our little bundle of joy to entertain and excite in the run up to the big day. A a father I was suddenly expected to not only cook the Christmas dinner but also unpack and assemble the latest fad-toy - Disney Princess houses, fairy coaches, Barbie cars, kitchens, Littlest Pet Shop villages, Play Mobil schools and villages and cafe's, Moshi-Monster tree houses - all of which seem to have been packaged in high security metal twists and impregnable duct tape, with no prospect of speedy opening or the "Easy assembly" promised on the box! It's difficult enough for a fully able bodied person to fathom these things out. Manufacturers obviously conclude that because you're buying for a child, you're young enough and fit enough to unpack and build their items - they don't think of the less able bodied.
Thankfully, this year it's fashion and make-up and Hunger Games Mockingjay stuff so there'll be no assembling (fingers firmly crossed) and Emily is at an age to understand that I'm no longer Superman. Imagine telling an excited little girl that she can't play with her new toys until Daddy has the strength to assemble them? It never happened. I pushed through the pain to complete the task, and paid for it later. But it was all worth it in the end and we have some very happy memories to look back on - my only regret is that I don't know how much better it could have been had I not been in agony for most of it.
How do you cope with Christmas? Do you push through and suffer the consequences later, or do you hide yourself away until it's all over?
Second in my research polls. The following poll will show me the average age of visitors to this blog as well as geographic location.
You can still vote in my previous poll if you haven't done so already.
You only get one shot - so please make sure you click the correct age category!
With projects in development I need to undertake a little research. Over the next few weeks I'll be asking a few questions the answers to which will determine future developments. I'd be obliged if you could answer the following question.
The poll will provide me with the following information in relation to site visitors: Gender and Geographic location.
Many thanks in advance of your participation. Look out for a new poll over the next few days.
Gary
We are all affected by the weather. Everyone has experienced the joy of a
warm summer's day or the rush to safety from a storm. The seasons
affect our moods and our general attitude to life. Summer warmth relaxes
us and helps to soothe pains. The winter chills us to the core and
makes life more challenging - keeping warm, finding shelter, sourcing
food (perhaps not these days, but our ancestors suffered!) Spring gives
us hope and Autumn eases us into the harshness of winter once more.
As
a chronic pain sufferer I know only too well the effect of the weather
on my symptoms but as for my mindset - well I'm discovering this now.
Those who read my recent post on FibroBlog (Fibromyalgia & Depression)
will know that I'm currently fighting a major depression. I don't know
if it was brought on by me reaching my half-century in October or if it
was because I've lived with fibromyalgia for so, so long, I just know
that it's hit me really hard - and it hit me just as the nights began to
draw in and the weather turned colder. And that is unusual for me. It's
a change to my usual approach to the winter - I have always loved the
cold, dark winter nights. Listening to the wind, watching the snow fall,
seeing people scurrying for shelter - all from the comfort of my living
room, with my family, a roaring fire and a nice hot cup of cocoa (the
romantic in me!)
But this year I'm dreading it - quite literally -
the prospect of another three months of dark nights, bad weather and
yes, even the cosy nights in, has got me all miserable and moody,
Battling my way to work three days a week on icy or snowy roads has
never been a favourite pastime, but this year I am considering calling
in sick for the whole winter. I want to hibernate, shut myself away in a
dark room and not come out again until the spring has firmly sprung.
It's depression, right? Well, possibly.
Or, it might be SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder) a condition I've heard of but never really understood. SADA - The Seasonal Affective Disorder Association
says that "for about 21% of the UK population, some of the symptoms of
SAD cause discomfort and a noticeable change in mood, but not serious
suffering. This is called "Sub-syndromal SAD" or "Winter Blues". For a
further 8%, SAD is a much more serious illness which prevents normal
function without appropriate treatment. SAD is a complex illness with a
wide range of symptoms."
I
know a lot of my readers are 'overseas' visitors but I'd love to hear
from anyone who has experienced either "Winter Blues" or the more
debilitating symptoms of Seasonal Affective Disorder, and how it might
impact someone who also suffers with a chronic pain condition like
fibromyalgia. I know I cannot be diagnosed as SAD as a person needs to
experience at least three consecutive years of the symptoms I'm
currently exhibiting, but I wonder how the advent of spring will affect
my mood. Obviously I'm hoping I'll be over this current bout of
depression well before then - but if I'm not it will be interesting to
see if I'm hopping around the fields with the hares come March 2016!
(This post was originally shared on My Fibro Blog )
