You have probably read that I’ve been in flare mode for almost a month. We sold our home, we close on the fifth of September, very soon. I’m pleased that the house sold at asking price. Of course, a bidding war would have been fun, or not.
The last night in the house on Taylor Street, I sent out an SOS text to my brother-in-law that I needed help. He came, packed MOST of my living room and office. He loaded it all into his truck. Then went and got his other truck and loaded that too, along with various boxes I’d packed. He called his wife, and she arrived shortly after to pack up my entire kitchen. Nice, right? I cannot remember any of it! Not one detail. I was in a full-on flare mode with fibro fog! Needless to say, every box I open is like Christmas morning. I can’t believe all the work they did for me. I have thanked them profusely, but how does one know if that’s ever enough?
The change that comes with living out of boxes in a semi-permanent living environment is unsettling. My husband and I have taken up residency at our family’s lake home. Well, I’m a part-owner with my remaining five siblings, so it is part mine. I mean, it sounds weird to say ‘my’ lake home, but I do pay taxes on this property. So, yes, my lake home.
My brother, Kory, was in the military. When he was 37, he was diagnosed with a very aggressive form of cancer. He lived for just seven weeks after that diagnosis. He was able to instruct us on what to do with his life insurance. He was still single, but family meant everything to him. This lake home stands on the land where my father’s boyhood home stood. This property has been turned into an LLC and will remain in our family for generations to come. It truly is a gift. I would’ve chosen my brother over this vast, six-bedroom lake home in a heartbeat, but that wasn’t to be. (Rest in peace Kory.)
I am rambling, aren’t I? Yes, I am.
The point of this post was to tell you that last night I was in some sort of cognitive blackout caused by an extremely stressful and painful day. My fibro fog has been happening very frequently. This also causes, S-T-R-E-S-S! I wrote a post at one point about a theory I had about fibro fog. Our brain allows us to escape from our painful reality by resorting to a dysfunctional cognitive state. It basically shuts us down to ‘reboot.’ It still is only my theory, but, I believe this is what happened last night. My husband said I was very cooperative, I listened to him, and he guided me into bed so I wouldn’t hurt myself. (I swear if he roofied me again… just kidding!)
I feel very different today. Still some intense pain off and on but overall, I am better physically and much more so mentally. I will begin updating you on our new beginning next week… I am officially going to start documenting the process of our continued search and purchase of our 5th Wheel and truck. We are narrowing down the options so I better start telling you about it all.
I have a new tagline. After much thought, a decision has been made!
I Tripped Over a Stone.
“A Fibro Warrior finding freedom as a rolling stone.”
What do you think?
Live your best life!