EDITED: Since writing this, this thought was firmly removed from rotation and I no longer feel as strongly.

Late at night, I get thoughts that swirl around and around in my head. My psychiatrist said it could be AD(H)D rather than OCD, but I really think it’s boredom. I don’t get my thoughts out very often and there are very few things to think about, or be bothered by that I can’t make a list and just deal with slowly-but-surely.

However, there has been one very familially-socially-destructive set of thoughts that is firmly in the rotation: my relatively new, negative feelings toward my sister-in-law.

It could be because she’s extremely attractive and fit (she’s always been in that popular “beautiful-and-intelligent-enough-and-very-hardworking-jock” group, as opposed to the “non-preppy-overly-bright-too-honors-student-enjoying-dorky-things-too-much-to-be-popular-regardless-of-attractiveness” group that her brother and I were in). It could be because she’s going into what is my family’s Family Business. But, honestly, I overlooked and/or embraced those things long ago. It’s mostly because one of the very things that defines her character is the very thing that I cannot comprehend or accept because it is the antithesis of what I feel we are all put on this Earth for. (No, she doesn’t kill kittens.) She’s extremely self-absorbed, often to the exclusion of all others, including her sibling, unless their thoughts/feelings/opinions/actions directly affect her.

Pain sucks. Yeah, I knew that already. And I’ve spent many nights up awake, in too much pain to sleep until my eyes started to close themselves. However, this is different. It’s horrible, nauseating, and has not gotten better within an hour of a vicodin and a flexeril. Because I have four horrible pains.

1. I have a horrible sinus headache because trees and grass and flowers are blossoming. Every sinus on my head is swollen and hurting.
2. I got my first period in 6 months. How is that possible? I’m on the three-month birth control pill, Seasonique, and three months ago my period came late and barely lasted for 1 day (it was more spotting than anything). Since I have fibromyalgia, my muscles get achy from being contracted/used as they usually are, and hurt a lot if more than usually used. So, since I haven’t used my uterine muscles for 6 months, well, a surge of cramps will cause nauseating pain.
3. My grandmother-by-adoption (and marriage) broke her wrist and a good friend broke his hand. Since everything happens in 3s, I thought “who’s next?” as I was walking on the stairs. And my left foot turned. So my ankle is killing me. The only way I know it’s a normal turn/twist and not broken is the lack of any swelling or discoloration. Stewie is lying on it now, and it’s feeling a little better. But I did something to my left wrist as I tried to break my fall and that’s hurting as  I type.
4. I’m an idiot. That given, after the couch and chair were delivered, I moved and turned them (they were heavy, but on sliding casters) so that they switched sides of the seating area of the tutoring room, and then moved them back 6 hours later. Now, my arms (especially my left arm) feel like someone tried to rip them out of the sockets.  Again. I felt this way shortly before we went to LA, and couldn’t even hang shirts up, only this time my neck kills, too.

I better feel better quickly, because I’d had plans for this weekend involving putting books on shelves and clearing 2 kitchen counters!

Ahhh… it felt good to get that whining out. Thanks for listening.

Of course, renovations are stressful. Not only is there a lot of money on the line, but there are so many decisions and a great deal of varying levels of skilled labor to deal with. Then, there’s the time demands, the loss of any semblance of a routine, and (in this case) the loss of a bedroom and closet access. It’s enough to tax even the most patient, together, organized person who has plans and subplans and time up the wazoo. However, despite the fact that I am extremely patient when dealing with the disabled (or merely stupid) and I have everything so organized it’s gone ridiculously smoothly even when we’ve hit bumps in the road, I also have fibromyalgia.

FM’s something I’m not good at advocating about; I am more likely to just try to tough things out whenever possible, especially when the only other option is verbally laying into someone repeatedly. Unfortunately, my husband avoids confrontation whenever possible, sees the renovation as My Project and therefore something he just puts up with, does not always see how my FM is being inflamed by what is happening, and has not always been of the “here, let me say or do something so you are as un- uncomfortable as possible” frame of mind. He’s more of the tough-it-out, you-brought-this-on-yourself, if-you-need-to-embarrass-me-by-using-a-cane-you-shouldn’t-go-out mentality. And I can’t have my mommy call his mommy. In fact, I didn’t have the subcontractor’s (I’m sorry, “project manager”) cell number until Wednesday, when he called me at 9:45 to say he was running a little late and would be here by 10:30-11, which wound up being 11:45.

But tonight, as he went home yet again saying “all I have left is…” (which was what he said Tuesday morning, claiming he’d be done by the end of the day), I just lost it and took my carefully organized box of “last details” to innumerate them all with him and made it clear that I expected him to be here during the day. That was as harsh as I got. He left. I’ll see him bright and early (”earlier than the usual time”… so, maybe not long after 9?) tomorrow and make it clear that he needs to physically stay here until the job’s complete because I need to be able to have plenty of time to clean the bedroom while it’s still light out. I’ve also sent an email to his boss to let him know that that’s the expectation.

The issue is really how the stress interacts with my fibromyalgia. I am hypervigilant during the hours they are expected to arrive/return as well as during the time they are here. I wake at 8 and rush to get dressed and ready. I’m lucky if they’re here by 9:30. They often leave for supplies, men, etc. (a lot of etcetera), as well as meals. But after 4 they work until somewhere between 6 and 11pm, with only 1 or 2 trips out. However, that gives me 12 hours of vigilance (unless I collapse into a brief nap that usually just leaves me feeling nauseous). Add to that the fact that I’m not in my own bed and there are no quiet corners to hide in, and I might as well be working for all the pain I’m in. Plus, I don’t feel comfortable leaving the house except for an emergency (out of a vital Rx or a very necessary doctor’s appt) and as we get closer to the end, they need immediate input (and reminders that what he named isn’t close to all that needs to be done, even if it all fits into a small box) often enough that I’m kept on my toes. Also, as the subcontractor/PM said that he’s not coming back once he’s done unless there’s a case of gross negligence, I check up on the project often enough that I caught the mistake of the backwards shower door (so the special water-beads-up coating was on the outside of the shower) today.

If my husband could have played the bad guy or even just hadn’t had a tough-it-out/we-knew-what-we-were-getting-into approach, I might have said something to minimize the effect this is all having on my body. But, then again, I could have mentioned that the longer days (a direct result of their less-than-determined daytime work) was having a negative impact on my pain index, or even that having the distraction of his calm company playing a game or going out for an hour would help, especially given how little I saw him this weekend… But, instead, couple’s therapy Monday night and the Sabres’ playoff game Wednesday night each magnified my stress and pain exponentially, and Peter’s refusal to commiserate with me or even listen to me bitch has really driven me crazy. But, again, I could have said something. Even exploding about it is better for me than holding it in.

But then, even 13.5 years later, I’m still the girl who went down below 95lbs and up to a near-toxic level of medication because I wouldn’t let my weakness discommode anyone by complaining about the lack of effects or the overabundance of side-effects (such as panic attacks, school phobia, and a marked increase in my depression and suicidal thoughts). I just said that yes, I do want to get better and will do my best to try to tolerate a higher dosage.

Tomorrow morning, though, I have a facial I’d rescheduled from Wednesday evening that I refuse to cancel (even if it makes my face look worse, I should heal in a week’s time), and Saturday is my body-glow-and-wrap. These should be relaxing, moisturizing, slough off dead skin, and include at least some scalp massage. And, once we’ve left for Cali, I can relax during the day on Thursday and Friday of our vacation next week (family stress starting Friday night, despite my awareness that it is all in my own head, will negate the relaxation factor of any breaks I take the remainder of the time).

Ahhhhhhhh… I feel better now that I’ve gotten this all down/out. I know I can’t control people and I really don’t want to be a bitch or OCD, but I also have feelings I need to get out and if I dump them on Peter, he feels responsible in some way or somehow I’m not doing the mature adult thing of sucking it up and dealing with the consequences of my choice to renovate the bathroom. Maybe now, I’ll be able to fall asleep

By the way, the bathroom does look gorgeous and luxurious, despite its tiny size.

Yes, life is frustration, and most people are dealing with frustration of some sort 24/7/365.25. But the life of someone who wants to, but doesn’t want to, and who can, but also cannot, can be especially frustrating. Especially when the whole “wanting to” part is relatively new.

I want to be a productive member of society. I want to actively be a teacher. I want to be a wife. I want to be able to get pregnant and be a mommy. Heck, I want to be able to say definitively that I will be able to do a specific activity or be at some place on a particular day and time. I want to look at the future and not see a thick grey mist of uncertain possibility, of plans that -however tenuous, or however many counter-balances are put into effect- could easily fall apart. When I was a child, the future was a bright glaring white light of potential realities all vying for my preference. As a teenager, the future a dark murky thing I wasn’t sure I was up to dealing with. In my 20s, I thought that determination and fortitude and focus could make anything happen. I’m hitting a point where I don’t believe that. I’m seeing resources as finite; my energy, my patience, my mental clarity, my physical stamina, my time, my money, all have a limit and I can see those limits.

The old me would just type in those given parameters and calculate my life and plans. The new me, the one that actually sees all the life I want to be (and look forward to one day) experiencing, keeps getting frustrated by the fluctuating nature of my limits and the consequences that I don’t foresee. For example, after helping Peter carry in some boxes two weeks ago, I still have too much pain in my fingers to be willing to frustrate myself by attempting to play my lovely, dusty, out-of-tune piano. Another example is the fact that if I go to Lowe’s and Food Lion for short-ish trips, I may be okay and it may even raise my activity tolerance if I keep it up, but if I go one extra aisle or carry one extra bag or then try to do the dishes that night… well, I’m done for a couple of days.

The trick is keeping up a very consistent, ever-so-slightly-increasing amount of activity. I see that, I understand that, but I don’t see how it is possible.

Life-activities, for example, are not exactly things that occur on a daily basis. The laundry can be done one or two loads a day, I suppose… especially the not-so-sanitary cat-enhanced laundry from months ago. I don’t go grocery shopping every single day, and I can’t go walk around stores pushing a cart and NOT buy things every other day of the week. If I drive more on one day than usual, especially in traffic, my right leg will get cramps. If I’m stressed, my neck will be stiff and possibly help trigger a migraine. Doing the dishes is very difficult, especially if there are many dishes, due to the height of the sink, my height, and the relative height of the dishwasher.

And what about weekends? The fact alone that I am intending to share my time and energy with another person changes everything…What about the fact that my IBS/meds cause me to not poo for weeks and then spend a full 24-48 hours first getting the blockage out of the way and then eventually running to the bathroom 5 minutes after I ingest anything, which causes significant muscle cramping from simple use?

And then there’s cleaning, cat-care (yes, petting my cats requires a certain amount of physical endurance), typing (less frustrating because there is a delete key and no set rhythm, yet still taxing on my fingers), keeping up with the bills, making sure that my school district and I are on the same page (although I’m certainly fine now with whatever that page winds up being), taking care of whatever my husband may need from me, keeping my mind active…

I guess I’m just thrown off by how sick my husband is and the fact that I know I’ll be trapped in the house all day for 2 weeks, once the bathroom renovation gets underway. I still have some things that need doing before that happens. I’m also leaving myself projects to do while it happens, as well.  I had plans for this weekend – very small plans, yes, but plans nonetheless – to de-junk and clean the guest room this weekend. Monday, I’d contact the contractor and set things up to start the following Monday and ask what I need to do to be ready for demolition (so clothing in the closets and the rest of the master bathroom isn’t in ruins), make an appointment at the salon(s) for mega-waxing, a facial, a partial-highlight & trim, a pedicure, and possibly a spray-tan in 2 weeks or so (it will probably take several visits to get all that done), and visit Target to get 2 new comforters for the guest room and white sheets. Instead, I’ll be gutting tomorrow and Monday and buying what bedding I can online (at least there’s a teacher discount). I may even do some dishes if my husband isn’t up to it, because we’re out of spoons and I need my yogurt.

In addition, on Monday, I’m starting a very basic, light workout program using my exercise ball (which I’ll have to inflate). I’ll start with 10 reps a day for each exercise and increase that by 5 reps every two or three days. I’ll also wear a pedometer all day every day and do either 2 loads of regular laundry or 1 load of icky laundry each day. My goal is to lose over 5 lbs in 4 weeks (starting Wednesday, March 31, when I put my diet into firm action), and be able to comfortably, easily fit into my pretty new dresses when I go a-visiting:

My New Dresses from Heartbreaker Fashions