i feel so much better, part one.

This next post is going to come in two posts. Reason one, because I wrote part one a month ago and then just gave up on it; reason two, there have been two major things that I have done this summer to “change” my life. 

Something that has been on my mind recently is how good I feel. I know, I wouldn’t think that either because of my fibro diagnoses, but here I am talking about how great I feel. I keep thinking back to the summer of last year. I was trying to do the same things then, as I am doing now…maybe except the quitting smoking part. Last year was when I started to feel the first symptoms of fibro. I was running and exercising almost 5-6 days a week. I was feeling pretty good.

Until I started to notice that I had this terrible, awful pain in my legs. My legs felt swollen, it hurt to walk, and I just felt like I wanted to sit for a most of my day. My energy was zapped, I was foggy, and I just thought that it was my body getting used to running. So, I didn’t do anything until the end of September. I went to my doctor and he prescribed my Naproxen; thinking that it was similar pain to what I had a few years ago. I took it, when needed. But, nothing happened—the pain kept coming back, and seemed to be getting worse.

So, October-ish, my doctor sent me for blood tests. My sed rate was normal (frustrating), my blood sugar level was normal (apparently, my doctor thought it was diabetes. Sheesh. I would love it if doctors were a little more transparent. It was just like when I went into a patient first with a stomach bug, and my doctor gave me a pregnancy test). I didn’t know want to do. I was almost crying in his office (he’s my best friend’s uncle) because I as beside myself. There HAD to be something wrong with me.

At this point, I wasn’t working out, I was barely staying awake during the day. My spine, my legs, my head, everything was so bad. I remember coming home from class and literally just going up to my bed. I was so tired and depressed because I was so tired. I wasn’t doing anything, and yet I felt this bad. It hurt to walk, it hurt to teach, my memory was shitty, I felt like I was walking through a veil of fog every single day. Now, these things have become a lot clearer since I was diagnosed. I have the words that I needed then to explain to my doctor.

My doctor just looked at me, after I was finished with my sob story, and he said, “Stand up. I want to see something.” Um…. okay. He had me cross my arms over my chest and give myself a hug. He said, ‘How does that feel?” I thought, “This shit better be over soon, because this is terrible.” I said, “Not great.” And, he pushed….and I mean PUSHED on, what I know now to be, the trigger points for a fibro patient. He would ask me to explain how I was feeling once he pushed on the point—I had to restrain myself from yelping several times.

I had no idea what he was doing, all I knew is that I wanted him to stop. Finally, after he was finished and said, “Now, I’m not a rheumatologist, but I have seen this test done. It’s for fibromyalgia.” My head flashed to those commercials, and that one girl that I knew in college that had it. And, her life was kind of sad. So, I thought…what if my life becomes sad? I didn’t want that.

And, it hasn’t been that. I have had a love, hate relationships with fibro since November. Before fibro, my life was a constant rollercoaster of moods, or at least it seemed like it. I was up and down, I was stressed out by the tiniest thing, every small bump in the road was a major catastrophe in my life. I didn’t know what I was doing. I was rushing through everything, and I wasn’t taking the time to properly care for myself.

I definitely wasn’t eating right, I wasn’t exercising consistently. I was drinking too much, smoking too much. Just about the only thing I was doing right was praying and going to mass. But, I didn’t think that I needed to be taking care of myself. Before fibro, I didn’t think that I deserved to feel good about myself or feel healthy.

For the past 2 and a half weeks, I have been doing a lot of reflection. I have been reflecting on myself, my actions, my job; I have been taking stock of what has been helping me recently in multiple ways.

This, mostly likely, is because I took on two major “challenges” that are a complete 180 from what my life has been for the last decade or so. The first major challenge was quitting smoking—which could be considered the challenges to end all challenges. However, until I added training for a half-marathon to that list.

Let’s tackle my first challenge: quitting smoking. In one of my last blog posts, I wrote about smoking and quitting, but I relapsed for a period, but there was just one weekend when I wanted to be over it—kind of. I could get past not having nicotine, not smelling like smoke, not having my heart race. But, what I was going to miss was the actual action of smoking a cigarette. There was something “therapeutic” about taking that time. In a rational mind of a non-smoker, this doesn’t make sense—and probably even to some smokers it doesn’t make sense.

So, after attending a wedding, and realized that my life could not continue on the path that it was going—I bought a vape and prayed that this investment would work. I didn’t know what I was buying, I didn’t know if it would work, but I thought I have tried almost everything else…what the hell?

I downloaded the Smoke-Free app on my phone; which has been super helpful. I have been able to see how long it has been since my last cigarette, how much money I have saved, I am able to see pulse rate improvement, oxygen levels increasing, etc. So many positive things, and I have used this app before, with little success…but this time, it seems, that something has took. I can count on my one hand how many times I have slipped up—which, is amazing to me, because usually if I slip up, I go right back to smoking. Not this time. The cool thing about this is that you can track the cigarette you have, if you have them. Which, I have done, but only when I have been drinking. I haven’t smoked regularly or consistently, in 1 month, 6 days, and 23 hours.

The major things that I have noticed have obviously been my breathing, sleeping, and my energy levels. I didn’t realize how much my breathing suffered while I was smoking (yes, I am very, very good at lying to myself). I have more stamina, and I noticed that I wasn’t as out of shape as I was (when I ran The Color Run), but it was the cigarettes that were effecting my breathing (No shit, right?). My sleep is so much better—which has been huge for me.

I love sleeping; it is probably my favorite thing in the world. My mother always told me that I was such a good sleeper when I was a baby, and I don’t think much has changed. I sleep like a rock—it takes so much to wake me up in the morning, I have to set several alarms, have looked into getting a vibrating alarm clock, I have slept through earthquakes (seriously), and I love my bed.

But, since my diagnoses of fibro—my sleep patterns have been sporadic. When I first started seeing my rheumatologist he prescribed Flexaril because I was having trouble sleeping. It was hard to fall asleep, stay asleep, and then get up in the morning. So, taking that has helped, but I didn’t realize how much not smoking was going to help, as well. I wake up more refreshed than ever, and I think I have more energy in the day. And, I always smoked a cigarette because I thought I needed more energy. Smoking is a good liar. Of course, my energy levels are being compounded with the sleep that I am getting—awesome; I don’t know if it is because I am not at school and seem to be more relaxed, or I am just adjusting to this new life, but I feel SO much better.


The Release Project: Be Gentle

Yesterday was a good day. Yesterday I watched my goddaughter get baptized in the Catholic Church. When my cousin asked me to be the godmother to Viviane, I was a little bit shocked. I mean, Carolyn and I have always been close, but I thought of a dozen other people that I thought would make a better godmother than myself. I mean, here I am just going about my business—why do I get this great honor? To be a witness to such a great gift, a great experience, and I get to be a part of it all. I was, and still am, humbled. It was so beautiful being able to be a witness to my goddaughter; and promise to help her grown in the love and presence of God.

I realized that this weekend I missed blogging. I could come up with excuses as to why I didn’t get around to it, but the truth is that I was feeling lazy. I would think of things to write, but I was just feeling uninspired. Part of it was I started Spring Break at school, and I was just enjoying the fact that I was getting a much-needed break. But, I was also thinking of other things—money, the baptism, and so many things that caused me unnecessary anxiety.

During Lent I get these emails from Dynamic Catholic for a series called Best Lent Ever.  They are daily emails that have a video and reflections for that day during Lent. I loved getting them last year, but I have fallen behind on the videos—I am consistent with being inconsistent. So, this afternoon after I did yoga I caught up on the series. I actively tried to take notes and listen to what was being said in the videos. This past weekend, and maybe longer than that, I have been in a funk. I just felt like something was on my spirit, and when I get like that it’s pretty hard for me to bounce back, at least spiritually.

I was going through the reflections, and was noticing a pattern. It’s all about happiness and allowing yourself to stop resisting happiness in your life and that happiness that God wants for you. I wrote about things that make me happy—being present in the moment, practicing yoga, and prayer. I listed things that make me unhappy—comparison, insecurity, and judgment. As I listened to Matthew Kelly explain that we have this void that only God can fill, and we often seek things that to not bring us closer to God because we are lost and the things seek out are not big enough to fill God’s place.

The reflection for today really spoke to me. It was titled “Life is Messy.” Isn’t that the truth—I mean, I always seem to have this part of my life where I feel on top of the world, but then I get drawn into this negativity and this passivity that adds nothing to my life. I don’t feel happy, I feel overwhelmed, my attitude changes, and I know that I am not being true to who I am and what God wants for me.

I woke up today sore—I almost didn’t want to get out of bed. Saturday night we were out late, and I had a little too much wine. So, Sunday morning was rough in the beginning—but since coming to grips with fibro, any night like that will set me back a few days. But, I was just feeling blah. I didn’t want to try for anything, I just want to lay in bed all day. But, something in my head refused to let that feeling take over, and I got up. I went to Rite Aid to get my meds, came home, threw out some old products in my drawers, and decided that I was going to do something yoga.

I felt like I need something gentle. I follow Yoga with Adriene on YouTube—she is great! Bubbly, happy, and her practice is all about finding what feels goods. So, you don’t have the worry about staring at her making sure your pose is exactly like hers. At the beginning of the year she started this Revolution series—where you practice taking care of yourself and learning to move through love and gratitude on the mat—in hopes that it will transfer off the mat. The first day of the series—Practice Ease. Sign me up.

This was a little more fast paced than Yin, but it was not Vinyasa. Yin is good for days where you might be having a little flare or are feeling stiff, but want to do something to make you feel better. Yin really clears my headspace when I am fight fibro fog. But, this was easy. The movements were more about finding and creating space in the body to make room in the future. It was a little challenging, and I did break a sweat; but I feel so much better about after done something that I always promise myself to do…but never actually end of doing.

I did some of the reflections after yoga, and like a stared previously, the reflection for today was perfectly in line with the yoga practice I did. The focus was on being gentle with yourself and with other because you never know what someone else is carrying on their shoulders. Something just clicked in my mind about this was a day to be gentle to myself. I take my medications, I make sure to pray, do some sort of movement with the body, say no to things that don’t serve you, and do things that you really enjoy.

While it still might be difficult to move around and focusing on tasks, I know that if I move with gentleness and ease, it will make the day better for me. Focusing on the steps to getting there instead of worrying about the final destination helps me keep myself in check, and be gentle with myself.

The Release Project: Impatience

I am not a patient person. I have tried hard to be patient, but it’s a quality that I can never seem to grasp. For one, I want things immediately, more often than not. When I schedule something or pay for something (like student loans and such), I don’t want to wait the time for things to be taken away. I just want to rip the band-aid off.

As a teacher, I have worked greatly on my patience. I used to lose my temper really quickly with my classes, especially when they were not doing what I was asking–but working there I am now, patience is something that my students really value. Not because they tell me this, but their actions speak louder than words.

Teaching all boys is the messiest job I have ever had–literally and figuratively. They are noisy, they are big, they are 17-18 and easily revert back to 10 and 11 year olds. They yell at each other, they fight, they are inappropriate, but they are real. One of the things that I needed to adjust working here was my patience. With boys, you have to walk them through certain things, but you have to be careful not to order them around. Tell boys what to do works for the younger grades, but with my seniors–they have to believe that the choice they are making in their’s, not something that you are making them do.

They are feeling their oats right now, they are tapped in a weird place of adolescence and adulthood; they are trying to figure out what path is for them and how far they can go with certain things in their lives. Growing up with two brothers, I saw the bad side of being surrounded by guys. They are no-holds bars, they are in your face, and they will call you on your b.s. faster than you can get the sentence out of your mouth.

But, working here, I have seen the finer side of young men. They are compassionate, they are caring, they are sympathetic, and they try their hardest to help–but sometimes their motives are mistaken as something more than they are. But, in order to see this, you have to let them be themselves. You have to let them become who they want to be, and you can’t push them in certain direction.

In my personal life, I have a problem with patience with relationships. Romantic and platonic. I have a problem with being patient with making decisions, waiting to tell people certain things, and just wanting something to go in a direction that another person might not want to go in.

In romantic relationships, I might be the least patient person in the world–and also the most indecisive. I once when on a date with a guy that was fully ready to commit to a relationship (which was something that I thought that I wanted), but then go totally freaked out when it came right down to it. I wanted constant communication, I wanted a sense of belonging, but once I got that–I high tailed it out of there after a few weeks of talking.

The next guy that I dated was completely the opposite–totally aloof. He was nice, he was funny, and listened to me. He was shy, to an extent and I was annoyed that he wasn’t making more of an effort. I always had to make the decisions, I always had to pick where and when we met–and I wasn’t sure it that was he wanting to make sure that we were doing something that I wanted to do, or he was just wasn’t that into it. Or he was waiting for something more, which was something that was not going to happen in the immediate future.

So, I got out of there, too. Both of these relationships, looking back on it, I was glad to have. I dated a guy that was full force and I dated a guy drug his feet. I was impatient, and changed my mind constantly and doubted how I was feeling. I wasn’t sure what was right for me at the time, but I think that these experiences made me value what I am looking for in a partner.

I want to be with someone that is going to value and cherish me for who I am; not someone they want me to be later. I want to be with someone that I am going to value and cherish for who they are, not for who I want them to be. Things like a good sense of humor, compassion, and kind disposition are nice things to look for in a man, but they might not manifest themselves until much later in the relationships. As much as we don’t think so, men shield themselves, too, when it comes to matters of the heart.

I never wanted to the time to get to know the person, I always wanted to fast forward to a place where we would be happy and in a relationship–the idea of getting to know and understand someone was something that I did not want to much effort into or something that I didn’t think that I needed to do. With the right person, all of these things will be come naturally, and I won’t have worry about doing or saying the right things because, not everything I say is going to be the right thing–and that’s okay.

Being with someone doesn’t mean that everything has to be perfect 100% of the time–the beauty of the relationships is having those bad and stressful moments, being able to be angry or annoyed with someone, but still be able to love them anyway. In these moments, relationships grow stronger and you grow together despite what is facing you. Thought of eventually getting to share that with someone makes me so happy and so hopeful for what is to come in my future; but for now I only have to be patient. 😉


The Release Project: It Starts with Love

Sitting at mass today, I had a lot of thoughts on my mind: Getting to work, when are ashes distributed, these people don’t belong to my parish, I hope everything is okay at work, just two more days until Spring Break.

As I knelt down, I started with my list: Heavenly Father, please keep me in your grace today. Let me show your grace to others. Gift me with peace, love. Take me worry away. I was doing exactly what I didn’t set out to do. But, then I caught myself—and tried to be as silent as possible. I tried to clear my head, tried to hear what God was saying to me, but it is HARD. To completely clear my head and focus on God Is difficult for me (especially when I haven’t had any coffee).

But, I know what happens when I put all my focus on God—my heart feels like it swells with love and joy. I feel at peace with the world around me, and I know that I would be able to handle anything that happens throughout the day. I knew that I was going to be protected today, and that is exactly what happened (ironically today I taught symbolism, perfect for Ash Wednesday!).

As I listened to the Gospel (Matthew 6:1-8, 16-18) today, something really hit home for me:

Jesus said to his disciples:

“Take care not to perform righteous deeds

in order that people may see them;

otherwise, you will have no recompense from your heavenly Father.
When you give alms,
do not blow a trumpet before you,
as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and inhe streets
to win the praise of others.
Amen, I say to you,
they have received their reward.
But when you give alms,
do not let your left hand know what your right is doing,
so that your almsgiving may be secret.
And your Father who sees in secret will repay you.


My pastor said that it was interesting that we have this Gospel today about humility and not being so overt with what we do, while we wear ashes today as an outward sign of our faith. He went on to say that the ashes are a symbol of our mortality and our hope for immortality. These little ashes that we wear symbolize the faith, hope, and love that we have in Christ as we prepare ourselves for our eternal lives.

I was thinking about which word or mantra I wanted to focus on today, and I was coming up short. I looked over the list, and nothing was speaking to me. I wasn’t feeling right in the spot to focus on a negative trait I wanted to let go. Not that I don’t have them (God Lord, I do), but I wanted to start this 40 days from a place of love. We are now in a season that celebrates the greatest sign of love that has ever been given; Christ dying on the cross for our sins. When Holy Week comes around, the one thing that I always think about Jesus’ relationship with Mary. My heart always hurts for Mary, because although she knew what Jesus’ was to do, it must of hurt her so much to watch her son die.

I think about love often, but I have never really appreciated love. In all forms—romantic love (that’s another post!), familial love, and the love that we have for our friends. I have always romanticized love, and had a picture of what it should be, but never appreciated the love that I had in front of me this whole time.

My mother and I have always had a rocky relationship. Since I was young, I have never really gave my mother much credit. Growing up, I thought that she didn’t understand me, I thought that she was embarrassed to have me as a daughter, that she wasn’t proud of me, or that somehow if I was different she would love me more. So, most of my high school and college years were spent having an identity crisis. I tried to be more like my mother, but it didn’t work. My mother is a realist and I am an optimist. I always have been, and much of my hardship was trying to get my mother to understand my hopes and dreams; while I thought that she was shutting me down.

It wasn’t until after my father died, when she and I had to learn to lean on each other mutually, did I finally realize what she has been trying to do my entire life. My parents are two of the greatest people that I have ever met in my entire life. My father has the humility that would make people question his motives and my mother is the strongest woman that I have ever met in my entire life. She is no stranger to loss: her father, her grandfather, her brother, her mother, and her husband. She has been through so much in her life, but she is amazing. She has taught me how to be strong in time of adversity, she has taught me how to rely on God when times are tough, and she has been consistently looking out for me since I was a little girl.

What I have mistaken for her “shutting me down” was her trying to make sure that I didn’t get hurt. She didn’t want me expectations to be too high, although she and my father have always wanted me to reach for the stars. She has just always wanted to make sure that I considered all my options; and always wanted me to succeed but never be disappointed. It took me a long time to realize this; it took a lot of tears, a lot of anger, and a lot of soul searching. But, having my mother there beside me has been one of the greatest gifts that I could have ever asked for.

My mother never wanted be to be anything that I wasn’t, but she wanted me to be the best that I could be and never sacrifice for it. To be my true self means to consider all my options, and to consider all the opposition that I have had to face in my life. To make sure that I had what I needed to get through life. Mom has never wanted me to suffer like she has had to suffer, because she knows that heart break is and what that can do to you. She has never wanted that for us, and she has always tried her best to make sure that we can overcome anything in our lives.

I have been lucky to have two mother figures in my life. In my last post, I talked about my friend Judy and how she has been a mentor to me. And she has; part of the reason that I love teaching and wanted to be a teacher was because I had her in my life to direct me on the right path.

And, in many ways, she has always lead me on the right path. In the years that I was struggling with my relationship with my mother, Judy was there to talk to and confide to. Then, she was my principal in high school and I was a senior that needed some guidance. The relationship that I longed for with my mom, I found in talking to Judy. She is patient, she is caring, she is understanding. She filled a void for me at the time, that I was worried that I would never find. However, in a weird turn of events, she has also helped me in my relationship with my mom.

She taught me to be more caring, understanding, kind, and selfless; even when I wasn’t listening. As I went to college, things got harder. I became some radical feminist who thought that she didn’t need people telling her what to do. Which, I learned that everyone goes through that phrase of sowing their oats. Giving the middle finger to the people that are looking out for your best interest and doing what you think is right for you. As a disclaimer, I see no fault or see nothing wrong with being a radical feminist, but that’s just not who I am….in some ways.

Through all of this, Judy was nothing but kind, caring, and compassionate to me during this time. She showed me unconditional love when I didn’t appreciate what she was giving me. During my nights of drinking and random hookups, she talked to me rationally and kindly, but she was met with resistance and anger. I didn’t recognize or appreciate what she was giving me, and I took advantage of her kindness and gentleness with me.

Now I am beyond grateful for the relationship that I have with Judy; because she has taught me so much as an adult. She, like my mother, has gone through so much in her life but, like my mother, does not hold her back from giving to people. She has gone through her struggles and her ups and downs, but in the end, she always bounces back—even when she doesn’t think that she will. It amazes me that she is able to do everything that she does because she does it with a fierce faith in God that can get her through anything. When I tell her how strong she is, she doesn’t seem to believe me. Which, because of her humility, does not surprise me. But, she is one of the strongest women that I know. Not because she simply keeps going, but she keeps goings with love and faith. She keeps going because she knows that ups and downs are normal in life, but she knows that God will take care of her.

The two most important woman in my life are so different in personality, but fundamentally they are the same person. They are strong, they are caring, they are understanding, they have a faith in God that can move mountains, they care about the people that they love so much, and they are two of the best people that I know.

So, the first day of Lent; I think of love and I think of Mary. I think of what she knew and what she had to struggle with during this time. I think about her faith in God, and her answer of “Yes” to the most difficult question a woman could be asked, but I think of her strength and her faith through all things.

the quiet man.

Things I did today:

  • Work
  • Graduate classes
  • Did 30 minutes on the elliptical (after doing 45 yesterday)
  •  Shower and Bath
  • Watched The Quiet Man

A few months ago, these would not be things that I would celebrate, or even bother to worth mentioning. So, why am I? Because this is the first time in months that I felt like I nailed EVERY SINGLE THING today. Work, easy and the kids were good in class. Graduate classes, I didn’t feel like I was in a fog and was just on top of the readings. Plus, I remembered to print out my paper (damn it, has fibro messed with the simple tasks).

Now, working out two days in a row is a feat to be celebrated. Yesterday, I was having a pretty good day and I decided that I was going to go to gym. I ended up doing way more than I expected-45 minutes of a decent sweat on the elliptical. Once again, this is such a little task. This is something that is a day in the life for most people, but for me…I was just like “YASS Queen!”Okay. I didn’t say that…But, the constant drive in my head was saying that I could keep going.

I woke up this morning thinking, “Okay, this is going to suck.” But, low and behold; I felt good. Legs were sore, but they were a worked out sore…not the sore than I have been dealing with for months now. I was happy. Going up the steps at work, I was pissed off at my body like I usually am. I felt like I was back to what I used to be before the fibro. So, I did a little but more today. Now, I could only do 30 minutes. It was hard, I was tired, and I could feel it in my body that I needed a break. So, got off. Making sure that I didn’t feel defeated by the time, but more focusing on the fact that I did to cardio workouts in a row. Maybe next week I can do three in a row, maybe I’ll stick to do. I decided that I am not going to worry about what next week and what next month will bring–because I have to focus on the present. What I can do in the here and now..now what I might be able to do tomorrow. I’ll worry about that later.

Now, I was flipping through the channels when I got home I saw that The Quiet Man was on. Now, if there is anything at all that you should know about me is that I love all things Irish. I love John Wayne. And, I want to be Maureen O’Hara when I grow up. This movie has all three things. This was a favorite movie of my father’s, and I think about him every time it’s on. It instantly puts me in a good mood. I long for the time that I will be able to retire in a Irish cottage on Galway Bay, for my children and grandchildren to listen to the stories of my family and their lasting history in their world.

I was in high school when I first watched this movie, and I decided right there and then that I wanted to marry a man like Sean Thornton. Strong. Quiet. Dependable. Thoughtful. Compassionate. Passionate. He was a man that gave up fighting because he killed a man, but he fought a man for the woman that he loves. There is something so perfect and wonderful about that, and something that I always have wanted in my life. My father, in many cases, reminds me of Sean Thornton–besides for killing a man that is. And, I am pretty sure that Dad, to my knowledge, has not been in any fights. That I know of. But, he was quiet. He was strong. He was most certainly dependable and thoughtful. Compassionate and passionate all in one.

After having several bad weeks in a row, coming home from classes and seeing a truck for the company that he used to work for and being able to catch The Quiet Man on TV was my father throwing me a little smile from heaven. I try not to get sad about things like this, but it does make me miss him. I try to rejoice in the little pieces of my Dad that are still revealed to me. So, when I am able to feel like the me I know I cam be, and have my Dad reach out to me, it’s a good day.