Sick of Counting Spoons

People with “invisible diseases” like Fibro or Lupus or many other autoimmune disorders always seem to be made to feel like it’s our job to be positive and cheerful and patient with our conditions, our family and friends, and ourselves, but that’s a lot harder than it sounds. It hard to live with something that kicks your ass every single day and still be cheerful and strong about it. It’s hard to wake up every single morning and try to figure out how many spoons you have that day. (side note: this comes from another blog from an amazing writer: . Please read this article so that you, my darling readers will understand when I talk about how many spoons I have). 
I woke up this morning in a lot of pain. It felt like I had been kicked in the stomach. So much so that I briefly wondered if my appendix was about to rupture. I’m still not sure what happened, but I am feeling much better, so apparently nothing ruptured. But between that and just other bad luck I’ve had this week, it left me kinda grumpy. I’m sick of living with this today. I’m sick of waking up every damn day and trying to figure out how many spoons I have that day. I’m sick of planning my days and outfits and life around whether or not there will be storms coming (that will inevitably cause me pain) or whether I’m stressed about something (like my 17 year old right now) and how that will limit me.
I’m sick to death of hurting physically and emotionally and mentally. I’m just sick to friggin death of dealing with it all today. But I never get the chance to really be pissed off at Mother Nature or the Random Number Generators because I’m supposed to be strong and positive.
There a lot of guilt that comes with living with a chronic condition. You feel like a burden to the people that love you. I want so bad to have as many spoons as I need that day, and it’s frustrating when my mind is okay, but my body is completely uncooperative that day. It’s frustrating when the magic random number generators of the universe never seem to give me a break. 
I really, really am trying to find some kind of peace within myself, and I know that inner strength and positivity go a long way towards pain relief, but today I’m pissed off at my Fibro. Today I just want it to go away. Today is one of those days I just look at the ceiling and ask, “what did I do to draw the short straw?”. Today I’m just mad that it’s not fair.
I look back and read through previous posts and sometimes it seems like I complain a lot. I really hope that it doesn’t always seem like that. I want very much to be that person that someone can say “she deals with it pretty well actually”. I feel sad and guilty when I’m not there, like today. But I do still try to get there.
I’m off to find some extra spoons for the rest of the day. To find hope because it’s under a pile of disgruntled right now. I’m trying. But for what it’s worth, knowing that you guys read my ramblings and come along with me on my journey of discovering the best and worst in myself as I learn to live with this means a lot to me. It means the world to me. It feeds my soul and gives me hope.

Have you any idea why a raven is like a writing desk?

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