I survived my whirlwind six day trip back to my hometown.
Insomnia, anxiety, fatigue, and sleeping each night with a kicking six year old has taken its toll.
I got in last night after midnight, and slept off and on until 3 this afternoon.
The flights weren’t that bad. There aren’t any direct flights from ATX to Pgh, so travel up north is a huge ordeal.
Just the act of hauling my luggage off the baggage carousel is awful.
I try to get flights that are equal in flight time. Usually flying to chicago or tennessee does that. But most of the time, its one big, long flight followed by a 30 minute one.
And seeing my family this time was particularly difficult because my grandmother is sick and I am sick.
These people didn’t understand my fibro diagnosis (even though my grandfather has it). They accused me of faking it, being lazy, and a myriad of other things.
One holiday, soon after my diagnosis, I declined to help my six other (able bodied) cousins in cleaning up after Christmas dinner.
It took so much pain and energy to even get out of bed in the morning and make the drive over there. I was planning on not even going. But I sucked it up.
One aunt after another, including my own mother, took turns coming up to me and insulting me. One even used a condescending voice and said “poor widdle baby can’t help because she’s in pain…awwww”.
I haven’t shared a holiday with that side of the family since. And that was 7 years ago.
I didn’t experience anything similar this trip, however. Although a few digs were made.
It helps that in the past seven years my mother and two of my aunts have had health issues. Not that I’m happy about it, but they have a little bit of an idea of what my life is like.
I still get shit from my mom, I don’t think that will ever end. But this time it wasn’t as harsh. I’m thanking the fact that I have a more difficult and provable illness along with the fibro.
Now that I have something that can be demonstrated in my blood results, she can’t tell me its all in my head.
The recovery continues…