Big Girls Don't Cry

For some reason, we all seem to be raised with this stigma that we should keep our emotions to ourselves.  When someone asks, "How are you?" The  social norm is to say, "fine, and you?" only to hear another "fine" in return.  Sure, there are variations... one of my favorites is "Can't complain, no one will listen..."  and here begins today's blog.

Can't Complain, No One Will Listen

We are constantly being told to "Suck it up, Buttercup," and "Put on your big girl panties."  After all, "Silence is Golden" and "Big Girls don't cry."

My last blog, A Valentine Story, was about a terrible car accident I was in on Valentine's Day 1996.  In true Arlo Guthrie form, "I told you that story to tell you this one."  It starts with my mother and her mother before her.

My mother has Fibromyalgia.  When she was diagnosed, it was a rarely heard of autoimmune disorder.  It was often used as a catch all term, when doctors didn't know what was wrong with you.  Widely disputed as a "valid" condition/disease, it was not recognized as a health issue for most of my mother's life.

Fibromyalgia is most prominent in women, but can be found in men.  Morgan Freeman, for example.  It is genetic and is generally passed from mothers to their children.  It is a unique condition that lies dormant in a person until triggered, often by an emotionally or physically traumatic event.  For my mother, it was a car accident.... NOT the one on Valentine's Day, but earlier in her life.

After the Valentine's Day car accident, I suffered from chronic back pain.  I would have good months, bad weeks, and stiff necks, often.  They seemed to go along with the weather or the level of stress and strain I put on myself.  Shoveling snow was sure to leave me in bed on a heating pad for days.  I always attributed it to the broken bones in my back and neck.  They say old injuries flare up and don't ever truly heal back to  normal... right?

They.  The infamous THEY.  Who are THEY anyway?  I question that phrase, "They say..." all the time.  WHO?  SAYS WHO??

Sorry, sidetracked.  Oh Look, A Chicken!!!  ahem.

The pain got worse over the years.  Soon, it was in my shoulders, upper back, shooting down my arms like electricity.  I felt like Storm from X-Men... I could zap people with the amount of electricity racing through my body.   I would take a tylenol and Suck it up, Buttercup... because big girls don't cry.

I finally decided to go to the doctor when I had an odd sensation on my back.  From the base of my neck to just below my shoulder blades, I was numb.  I had itches and pain, but if I touched it, I felt nothing.  Some days, I would feel an intense itch, but if I asked my husband to scratch it, it felt like he was scraping razor blades down my back.   Something  just wasn't right.  

I had to wait 3 months to get into the doctor, but once I did, it was confirmed.   I have Fibromyalgia. I told my mother and my husband, but no one else.  It was my secret.  The doctor put me on meds to help me regulate things and it took a while to find a combination that worked well for me.  My doctor believes it was the 1996 accident that triggered it in me and as I grew older, it became harder for me to shoulder the pain on my own.

(See what I did there?  SHOULDER the pain... LOL.. I kill me.)

So for years, I decided to Suck it up, Buttercup, and not tell anyone about my chronic pain disorder.  I have been the team captain for my company's MS Walk team for 10+ years, but can no longer walk the distance.  Every year, I found myself making excuses, or bailing out half way through.  When my children want to play "Horsie" or climb on me, or sit on my lap for long periods of time... I didn't utter a word.  I suffered in silence.

I lied.  A lot.  I was limping because I "turned an ankle," or I took a day off of work for a "migraine." It was getting harder to make excuses.  I hated that I had to take medications every single day, several times a day.  Then, a friend shared something with me.

"If your mechanic said that your car needed an extra fuel treatment once a week to keep it running well, would you do it?  What if he told you that you needed to use the more expensive gas or a higher grade of oil, would you do it?  Do you give your kids vitamins?  This medicine is to help your body work more productively.  It's maintenance.  You have to stop seeing it as a crutch and more like a fuel."

That friend saved me.  I started taking my medication and it really helped.  I also stopped lying about my condition.  I  hate lying.  I'm not very good at it.  It was just easier to say, "I'm having a bad Fibro day."  I started to open up more about it and show more support for it on social media.

It is not a crime to open up about invisible illnesses.  It's not a crime to have a chronic pain disorder.  It's not a crime to have an off day.  I don't have to tell you "I'm FINE."