"You have Fibromyalgia."
Such a simple phrase. But somehow hearing a pain management specialist say it makes it more real. Even wrote it on a piece of paper. I showed my husband the moment he came through the door.
It's real. I'm not just a crazy person. I'm crazy and in real pain.
I told the doctor about my pain and he listened. Really listened! About the nights I don't sleep. About how when I am manic I can cause a flare up because I do crazy things and push myself. He did the point test. And he told me what was wrong with me.
He diagnosed me.
There is a part of me that is darkly laughing. Not sure if it's an actual laugh or something twisted. Because I don't WANT this to be real. I am fucking tired of having issues with my body! I am beyond happy, so I know this dark laugh isn't full of joy. Because answers aren't comforting. My emotions are turbulent. Laugh like a madman and howl at the moon.
I think I might break down and cry later on. When no one is around to hear it. Because I can't take people's eyes right now. Don't want to burden my husband with my shitty emotions. Everything hurts right down to the core of me.
To the fucking quick.
My mother's laughter fills my head too. Her evil bitch laugh. Such mockery and vengeance in her laughter. She did curse me. Thinking of her makes me rage. Because sometimes, even when you win, you loose.
I haven't won anything gang. But at least I have an answer.
