Fibronaut At Home

Day Dreaming

I was just looking at the houses for sale in the community that me and the hubby have always dreamed of living.  After all the coulda-woulda-shoulda’s and all the disappointments of the last couple years, it’s really nice to have dreams again.  I’m filled with hope.  Our day will come and hopefully we’ll appreciate it all the more.  For three years, my only focus has been fibro and CFS; How I’m feeling and not much else.  I feel like I have a new focus.

The hubby and I had a conversation while in a meeting the other day.  I found out that he isn’t all that concerned about me going back to work.  I just assumed that was the end goal.  Turns out he likes me staying at home, taking care of the kids and me.  How lucky am I?  For now I’m just home with the kids for the summer.  Next year I’ll try my hand at volunteering at their schools, maybe join the PTO.  It’s really fun to torment my 12 year old that I can’t wait to see him when I volunteer at his school next year.  Maybe I’ll have to start using that as a reward; Do this for me and I won’t show up at your school next year.

I’ve even been socializing.  GASP!  I’ve been socializing and not over-thinking every conversation or re-playing every moment and judging myself.  If I find myself starting that mess, I just say out loud, “What other people think of me is none of my business.”  Sometimes, I even Richard Smiley it and go look in the mirror.  Say it with me: “I’m good enough.  I’m smart enough, and doggone it, people like me.”

I still want to write on my sewing blog more.  I let it go as long as I’m taking the time to sew instead.  I have lost a little weight and gained a little muscle, so I need to take in some of my clothes too.  I’ve even been doing workout videos.  Real ones.  Not just yoga for aches and pains and arthritis and older people.  I did Zumba and I did a hula one.  When somebody tooties their flutie, I gots to shake my booty (Donkey from Shrek), and now I can do it without hurting myself.

My house is clean.  This deserves it’s own paragraph because, holy crap, it’s freaking amazing.  It’s clean and I did most of it.  The trick is, once you get something clean, you clean it again before it’s at the FUBAR level.  My living room gets vacuumed every other day and the toilet gets cleaned whenever it looks even a little bit dirty.  I do dishes after every meal and I do laundry twice a week.  I don’t sit down on the couch.  That used to be my spot.  I close all the recliners, fold all the blankets and stack the pillows, so I’m not tempted.  As soon as my bed is empty, I make it.  I am much more reluctant to mess it up after I take the time to make it pretty.

I’ve struggled a little with people’s reactions to how much better I’m feeling.  It’s not a miracle, just a lot of little things that I’m doing right.  I don’t allow negative thoughts and I shake off any negative feelings.  I stay positive and when I feel myself slipping, I write in my positivity journal and I listen to my upbeat, encouraging music.  I started small.  Small goals and small jobs around the house.  Every day I added new goals or I cleaned one more thing.  I’m going to paint a sign to hang above my front door that says, “Make today awesome.”  I want my whole family to experience the happiness and contentment I’m feeling right now.  I didn’t write about this sooner because I didn’t want to jinx it.  Now, I’m not going to shut up about it.


Fibronaut on Vacation

I’ve been meaning to write about our vacation that we took at the end of June.  I thought about the things I did to be with my family as much as possible.  I haven’t posted about anything yet because I’ve been all up in my head since we got back.  I don’t really know where to begin.  I’ve got so much bottled up right now and I’m just trying to keep my head above water.  It was great to be able to get away.  I took it slow.  I rested as much as possible.  I’m realizing the most difficult part of vacation is coming back to reality.  I’ve really struggled the last couple weeks to get back into the swing of things.  I feel lost.  Part of the problem is that, while on vacation, we ate out every meal.  I didn’t have to worry about having the energy to feed myself or the kids.  I feel like I was able to do so much more than normal while on vacation, that now I feel like I’m doing nothing.  Now that I’ve finally realized that, you would think I would be a little easier on myself.  I continue to beat myself up about it.

Every time I sit down to rest, my brain goes to everything I should or could be doing.  I’m having trouble sleeping again and having trouble keeping my temper.  I was so rude to a girl selling magazines the other day.  I blew up at the kids for a really stupid reason.  I don’t like myself like this.  My son starts middle school at the end of this month and that is just adding to my stress.  I think I’m more anxious than he is.  I’m having trouble just breathing.  I feel like I could hyperventilate all the time.  I just want to cry and scream.  I really hate myself right now.   I don’t know how to get out of this funk.

I’m still struggling with being unable to work.  I feel like I don’t contribute anything to my family.  I know that’s not true but it feels that way sometimes.  It just sucks so bad trying to live on one income.  It isn’t fair to my kids or my hubby that I can’t work.  I even have one of those dreams that feels like it is real, where I think I’m at work again and I feel so good but then I wake up and I just feel sad.  When I worked, I missed out on a lot of things with my kids.  Sometimes they couldn’t do certain sports or activities because I couldn’t get off of work to take them.  Now I have the time but we don’t have the money for them to do those things.  It hurts to have to tell them they can’t do something because we can’t afford it.  It breaks my heart.  I would make sure I rested all day if I could just do this for them.  Makes me feel like a complete failure as a parent.  I need a hug.


Denver Broncos Wishes and Justin Bieber Dreams

It is 3:57 am.  I’ve just filled the humidifier because I have one of those dry coughs that isn’t really a cough.  I have had two of the most awesome dreams ever.  Two dreams in one night?  And not those crappy dreams that freak you out, making you think you might actually be a lesbian or you just went somewhere naked, but two freaking awesome, totally fabulous, seemed real at the time dreams.  Following is a brief (?) synopsis of both dreams.  My inner-freak-out-dialogue is in parentheses.  

Dream synopsis #1:

The National Football League has decided to hold special games at local high schools.  The Denver Broncos are playing somebody at Aurora Public Schools Stadium at William C. Hinkley High School.  (Shut the front door.  That is my high school.  Where I went for four years.)  Yours truly is on a step team/cheer leading squad made up of former alumni.  We are in the sweetest Bronco gear ever and we are so bad-ass that no one is watching the game.  We even do a step routine that takes us around the whole track.  Even the NFL players stop to watch.  The Broncos lose (WTF?) but no one cares because we are the most coordinated, hyped-up, epic step team/cheer leading squad ever.  At the end of the game, the Broncos even huddled around the coach at the end of the field for their team meeting, just like football games in high school.  Only our families are left in the stands because they know we’ve saved the best for last.  We do our encore and the Broncos stop to watch us.  (Isn’t reminiscing with my sub-conscious fun?)

Dream synopsis #2:

I go into a very busy and weirdly set up salon for a haircut.  It is set up, kind of like I would imagine a hair stylist classroom.  Imagine lots of stations set up in rows, just like desks in a classroom.  My hairstylist is non other than the very famous hairstylist Justin Bieber.  (BAHAHAHA!  Where does my sub-conscious come up with this?)  I tell Mr. Bieber that I need something different and he starts messing with my hair, preparing to cut.  The whole time, he is talking to himself, psyching himself up.  “Come on.  You can do it.  It’s just hair.  Why does it have to be a cut?”  Then I feel bad for him and I tell him, “Don’t worry.  It’s easy.  I’ve cut my own hair before.  I checked out a book from the library.”  (That last part is true.  How To Cut Your Own Hair (or Anybody Else’s)” by Catherine Heckman, Cathie Obiedo and Claudia Allin)  So The Biebs is getting more nervous and just decides to take a whack at it.  He cuts a huge, diagonal chunk from my temple to my nose.  He immediately starts freaking out and I start trying to calm him down.  He calls someone over to look at my hair.  Now there are several people staring at the massacre.  The waitress (Where did she come from?) asks if I need a drink.  She mentions a couple different drinks and roller skates off to fill my order.  Another waitress skates up and brings a hamburger and fries.  My tummy is growling, but the food is for The Biebs.  Justin Bieber is a stress-eater.  He starts wolfing down the food while someone else is messing with my hair, trying to figure out how to fix the mess.

After this I woke up either because I was hungry, coughing or just realized that there is no way Justin Bieber would be doing my hair.  There is also no way that The Biebs would survive eating a burger and fries in front of me when I’m hungry.

Unfortunately, I was so enthralled with my dreams, that I couldn’t sleep until I shared them.  Which means that although I slept well enough to have a couple kick ass dreams, I’ll probably still be a zombie today since I’m up typing this at four in the morning.  Go Broncos!!!


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