Monday, May 21, 2012

Living underwater

The medications I take make my legs feel like jelly. The sense of impending doom makes me feel like I'm submerged under water, but yet I can't drown. There's no assuring oxygen deprived thoughts of 'it will all be over soon' yet the panic & fear grow stronger. That has been me, since the day I found out we were leaving, & now, the day I tell my beloved doctor, the panic rises into my throat. I can't breathe or think but no hand reaches into the water to pull me up.



  1. I'd offer you a hand if I could, but my wrists wouldn't hold :)
    Hi, I've been following your blog for a while now, and we've got a lot in common. I was diagnosed with my fms (as it was called when I was diagnosed in the early 90s) at 14, so I could say I know where you're coming from, but chronic pain has taught me that even people with similar diagnoses sometimes have trouble seeing the world though the other's eyes. I really enjoy your blog and I'd be happy to chat with you if you need an ear. I've got two and they are mostly in working order. And I don't think enjoy is really the word I mean. I like it, but I don't think I could call it enjoyable, because my heart aches as I read what you're going through. But I try to keep up with what's going on with you. I'm going to have to find another doctor myself soon - my gp is moving out of state, so I'm left at loose ends, but at least I have her advice on who to try next. So, feel free to drop me a line if you'd like.

    Oh, I should probably apologize for the scatteredness of my response, but I'm sure you understand.

  2. I, too, would offer you a hand. At the moment, fibromyalgia has more control over my life than I am comfortable with. It's funny, just a few weeks ago, I thought that somehow I got the best of it. I won. Now it's showing me it's a worthy opponent.