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Artist representation of what it feels like to have Fibromyalgia.

I stare at my legs sometimes, watching with disdain as my muscles twitch and ripple.

They look absolutely normal otherwise.

Although there are so many variations of fibromyalgia symptoms, my lower back, hips and legs receive the brunt of my chronic pain and weakness. They always ache. They always hurt. They are always weak.

If I could hear them, I bet you anything that they would moan.

My arms are also weak, but they don’t hurt 24/7 like my lower half does. I was surprised the other day when I noticed sharp pains deep inside my upper arms.

Yes, I stared at them darkly for a minute, trying to think of what I might have done recently to anger them. Was the water pitcher too heavy? Did I sleep on them wrong?

Did I unknowingly wake up during the night and do some push-ups?

I couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason why my usually painless upper arms felt like someone was literally inside the sinew of my muscles with a hot poker.

Then I remembered.

I have fibromyalgia and nothing that I endure ever fucking makes any sense at all. Duh.

Why do I need a nap almost every damn day?

Because.

When did my shitty short-term memory become a personality trait?

I don’t recall.

I could go on and on, I really could. But asking why these things happen is totally redundant. There isn’t any solid reason why. My doctor is just as perplexed as I am.

When I’m having a particularly bad day, when I am flaring hardcore, I’ll do this thing where I kind of crawl into myself. I know, it sounds weird, but it’s the only way that I can explain it. It’s not meditation, which continues to elude me, it’s more like an inner hideaway that happens to be inside my brain.

I picture myself really tiny (which I really am not) and then I make camp inside my cerebral cortex.

The amenities need some upgrading, I’m really hoping for a hot tub.

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