I don’t know how my mom did it. I really don’t. I wish I did. I wish I could ask her but I can’t. At least not in this physical world and hear her voice. Her body is now ashes. I still talk to her. I feel her. It’s not the same but I am grateful for that.
My sleep is all messed up. I get that from my fibromyalgia and a little from my mom’s side. It’s not unusual for us not to sleep well. Unfortunately, I can not only exist on coffee like my mom did. It messes with my heart (probably because I am obese) and after a while caffeine does not seem to affect me, or it makes my nerves so excited I just can’t sleep.
Take today for example. I was going to get a few hours before I get some work done. I was sleepy. Feeling too tired to crochet or even exercise I got ready for bed. My body said just kidding. My nerves yelled part-time everyone and the dance of me having a hard time staying still began. Yes, this is even with my meds. There are other things that could be causing this. Some of it being TMI. I tend to get monthly flares like this hence the TMI. So Instead of getting some beauty sleep, I am at my laptop typing up a storm. Wishing like hell I could ask my mom how she did it. or at least lay on the couch with my head in her lap and she ran her fingers through my hair. That was a comforting feeling. The truth is I can’t. I have to comfort myself and I don’t know how to make the nerves stop.
My mom was active. Constantly cleaning. Taking a walk. None of that is really an option for me right now. My fiancé is sleeping, God love him. We rent a house but, its kind of small. Not too small, it fits us fine but still a little small. Since I am not known for being quiet on my feet I do not want to disturb him. They are doing work outside on the gas line so the sidewalk is closed–no fresh air walk for me. I feel too tired for the treadmill. Still my upper back is tight.
It’s strange how much I admire my mom’s ability to push herself to keep going even though that was part of her downfall. If she had stopped and gone to the doctor when she was having pain, the cancer might have been managed. We will never know. Now I have to handle it. I have no parent to lead me on this journey of hellish nerves. My dad never had a problem with sleep so it would be difficult for him to understand. He would say, “its your body, you have control over it after all”. Sometimes, I wish I could be more like my mom.
Instead I try desperately to relax. My fibro nerves as i call them just won’t cooperate. I feel them twitching all around. Maybe if I take myself back to where I could take refuge on my mom’s lap that would help. If not, I just have to make it on my own, with or without sleep.