spillthebeans

So, we've already talked about being a spoonie. But what if you don't have a diagnosis? I've been there. And it's awful. For years, I suffered from random headaches. We had no idea where they came from. We thought it was my hair weighing my head down, so I cut it all off. We thought it was corn syrup, so I quit eating that. We tried solution after solution, but nothing seemed to help. Even after cutting my hair and avoiding food additives, I still got headaches. In addition, there were all sorts of random symptoms. Dizziness and nausea. Exhaustion. Overstimulation. I couldn't seem to exert myself at all. Even as a little kid, when we went to an event, I'd come home, cry, and conk out. If you know the symptoms of fibromyalgia , it probably seems obvious to you what I had. And in 2010, we finally figured that out, too. But before that, there was a long waiting period. And quite honestly, it sucked. Not knowing what's wrong with you is one of the hardest things

For a long time, my identity online has not included the fact that I'm a spoonie. (As a very-related side note, please read the spoon theory . It may change your life. Thanks to the spoon theory, we chronically ill people fondly refer to ourselves as "spoonies.") Online, I will occasionally mention that I have fibromyalgia and PCOS, and it's not a secret , per se. But I haven't talked a lot about it. The reason for this is that, honestly, the online world is my escape. Ever since I can remember, whenever I'd feel sick or lonely or crappy in any way, I would turn to the internet. There, I didn't have a faulty human body to hold me back. There, I felt free. (This is also probably why I'm a writer and why I loved to read as a kid.) So, whenever I've tried to write about chronic illness, it's been hard. It feels like my personal space is invaded by the crappy feelings of fibromyalgia, or a headache, or whatever I'm facing that day. It's no

Pain is a warning. It’s what you feel when you stub your toe or when you hit your head on the doorway because you’re a 6’7” basketball player. Pain is what your body does when there’s something wrong. And it’s what I experience every day. But first, let me back up nineteen years. I was born. (Duh.) But the circumstances leading up to it are… intense, to say the least. If you were watching a movie of my life, I think you’d most likely be on the edge of your seat. At least, I’ve been on the edge of my seat for my life. My parents almost lost me twice; the first when my mom started bleeding during the pregnancy, and the second time happened when I was (trying) to come out and be born into the world. Oh, and there was actually a third time, which happened when I had to have heart surgery at only two days old. But I made it through. Fast forward to the present-day. Remember my lovely metaphors for pain at the beginning of this post? Well, it just so happens that I’m well acquainted with the