The lethargy attacking me today is at a level it hasn’t been in several months. It is five o’clock in the afternoon and I have just now managed to get up from the couch to do something useful. I consider writing useful. More than useful, actually. If not for writing, I would be constantly depressed.
Lethargy, for me, is a symptom of Fibromyalgia. It is as frustrating to deal with as cognitive impairment, and on today’s scale, it exacerbates the physical pain so keenly I silently scream. Sometimes I cry out loud. Fuck, a lot of the time I cry out loud.
I was working at a hospital when I was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia. Many nurses scoffed when I told them what was wrong with me. I had suffered the chronic pain for a year before finally finding a doctor who could name the beast, and knew how to treat me.
I’m not going to list every single one of my symptoms here. Not now. I have dishes that need tending, and a shower with my name all over it. I just needed to tap out a few words about how I am feeling today, as the act is quite cathartic. Before I go though, let me say that if any readers out there suffer with Fibromyalgia, I feel you. Fibromyalgia is not a trash can diagnosis. It’s fucking real, and it fucking hurts. If any readers out there know someone suffering, be kind to them. Please, be kind.