Faking My Way Through Fatigue

Last night my husband and I went with our friends to a belly dance show in Helena. I really wanted to go to support another dance community in the state and hey! Road trip!  It was a delightful night with a lot of variety and talent and conversation. I had a great time.
Except I couldn't stop yawning.

This event was my idea, but this was me the entire time.

Really. I was excited and enjoyed the company and entertainment, but I couldn't get myself to stop feeling so stinking tired. It's a good thing I wasn't driving on the highway, because I am sure I would have fallen asleep.

And....I'm....out.

I share this story because this has been my state of being for several weeks. Living with lupus, I know that fatigue is a major deal. A few years ago I went through several weeks of getting up, going to work, coming home and crashing on the sofa. I seem to be going that way again.

I'm just gonna take a quick nap. Here. Here's good.

I really didn't enjoy this neverending fatigue the last time, and I thought I had beaten it. I thought I had found a way to manage it and still live a bit of a life. Then I had that silly surgery. I honestly think I caused more problems than I solved with that stupid thing sometimes. Sure I don't have the numbness, tingling, and clumsiness in my right arm and hand anymore, but I am left with cranky fibromyalgia, intense Sjorgren's, and fatiguing lupus symptoms. 

Can't we just fix a problem instead of creating more? Me remembering how fucked up autoimmune disorders can be.

I'm not sharing this to be whiny and gain your pity in some way. It's just the reality of autoimmune. People don't always understand when you say you're too tired. They don't always appreciate that being tired as part of lupus or other autoimmunes isn't just needing a quick nap to recharge. It comes in three forms: mental, muscular, and vitality. 

Psst! Wanna know a secret? They all three suck ass.

The mental fatigue is a real bitch. I hate not being able to be quick on my uptake or witty retorts. It drives me bonkers not being able to read, comprehend, or retain what I've read. Not being able to call up the word or phrasing I need vexes me. It's terribly embarassing, honestly. When the fog crawls across my brain, I can't function. It's not just frustrating, it's downright scary. Knowing I have to drive home or get through two more class periods when I can't gather my wits terrifies me. I had one day last week where I finally reached my last period, which is my open, and I just put my head down because I was so mentally lost and exhausted. I just couldn't do anything but sit there. When I got home, I felt so relieved to then find out I didn't have dance that night because it meant I didn't have to try and put on the act for anyone. My husband was even sick, so after I made him some soup, I could veg out until bed. I even found scrolling Facebook challenging. 

Me trying to be articulate when the mental fatigue strikes.

I've done a lot to combat my symptoms since being diagnosed over ten years ago. The muscular fatigue has gotten much better. There was a time when even trying to support myself with my quads during basic belly dance stance was taxing. Going up one or two flights of stairs-which I had to do daily at work-- was impossible and left me with jiggly legs. Holding my arms up to adjust a painting exhausted me. However, I've not had a lot of this kind of problem in a while. Now though, it comes out of the blue and makes me drop stuff. Some times just brushing my hair, which is a pixie cut for crying out loud, is too much. I know last week I posted about my physical goals with exercise, and I've done well, but oh man! I've had to take it down a notch. Exercise is essential to fighting fatigue and overcoming some of the pain and weakness of autoimmune. I know this. Someone needs to tell my arms. They simply aren't up for the task and pushing too hard leaves me with watery arms and intense nerve pain. 

Curse you fibro! 

However, right now the worst is the not getting through my day to day life without feeling like a slug. Yesterday, I spent half the day on the couch because doing dishes, making coffee, or even going to take a shower threatened to fully deplete my resources. I went downstairs finally to put a load of laundry in the washer. I came upstairs and laid back on the sofa because it sucked the life force right outta me. I knew we had plans to go to Helena and I needed to conserve as much verve as possible. I hate not doing more or being involved more in causes or activities that I enjoy or interest me because I fear not having the energy to follow through. Tuesday I wanted to go to a new action group in my community geared toward building alliances and civility and awareness, but I came home from work and couldn't even consider going back out. I couldn't even Netflix because I my energy reserves were that empty. On Wednesday, I was pooped, but I thought I was starting to recover. Until Thursday hit. Thursday I fought to stay awake, but gave up at 830p and slept straight through until morning. Truth be told, I was nodding off between 5p and 8p, but I refused to give in! My sister told me that their Thursday was crazy busy between PTA, guitar lessons, and swim lessons, you know--typical family of five commitments all on the same night conflicting with each other. There's no way I could keep that schedule feeling like I have been. It seemed so absurd, but I went to bed at 830p that night. I was enormously thankful I didn't have my sister's schedule. 

I'm sorry, but we have to do what when? Holy crap.

I miss getting through my week with enough vigor to do more than just exist. I am tired of being tired. Period. I'll keep trying. I will keep watching my food choices, my sleep patterns, my exercise routine, and my emotional state. I will keep taking the medications as directed. I hope things will start turning around soon because...

...this is all got right now.