May or may not have had a meltdown with C today.

Okay, definitely may.

Fiiiiine... definitely did.

It's just... I've been in so much pain lately, and my fatigue has been thoroughly ridiculous. I'm really not even sure how I managed the honeymoon. I mean, how did I walk around at Sea World and Balboa Park all day? (Well, okay, I didn't. C pushed me around for a good chunk of the day, that's how.) It's nothing short of a miracle.

But I've basically been living in a giant flare hell-hole since the wedding, with a few brief surfacings for air and sanity. I actually had an entire 20 minutes without pain while I was on the acupuncture table the other day. Twenty minutes, y'all. I cannot remember the last time that I was not at least at a 3 on the pain scale for twenty minutes, and I got to be a zero. A ZERO! Yeah, it was pretty freakin' fantastic. I was very sorry when the flood roared back in.

So the past few days it's gotten to the point where just one painkiller doesn't take it down to a manageable level anymore. I can be on two at a time and I'm still floating around a 5 somewhere, barely hanging on to "I can function, I can function, I can... who am I kidding, I'm gonna lay down with my heating pad now."

I'm trying not to be poppin the pills constantly, I really am. I take baths, I stretch, I have the heating pad,  I get C to rub the affected area... and sometimes it helps a little, sometimes it helps some, and every once in a while it makes a noticeable dent for a little while. But always, always... the pain comes back, gnawing at my sanity, my patience, and my optimism. (Also, apparently my guts are back at the point where I'm not allowed to eat without pain, especially protein of any sort. Or fiber. Or... well...)

So today I went to pick up an over the toilet organizer rack dealie, because the new house (which we got the keys to yesterday!) has very little storage space. I mean, like none. No pantry, one cabinet in each bathroom, no linen closet... The only saving grace is that there's a closet in each bedroom and a coat closet in the living room. Oh, and a closet for the washer and dryer to reside in. So we have very limited storage, and I'm gonna have to get creative... and go through all my stuff again and be ruthless in getting rid of non-essentials.

Yes, so, back to the toilet rack. I borrowed C's truck and went to go pick it up. I got it home just fine (it's quite light), and even got it up to the apartment myself, despite, of course, being in bunches of pain and limping and all that... but I was so proud of myself for getting the rack up to the door myself without asking for anyone's help!

That's what did it for me. When I realized that I am now proud to have carried a 5 pound object all of fifty feet.... I pretty much just lost it. Because, really, that's something that I would not even have thought about in my "other life". I would have just grabbed that sucker and carried it inside, gone on with my day, and that's that. But now? Now I'm all like, "Look at me! I carried something! By myself! From the truck to our apartment! Yaaaaaay!"

It's the same feeling of accomplishment I get when I shower. When I shower.

Really? Really?!

So I dissolved into tears, because what kind of a life is this? A life where my accomplishments have been reduced to things so... so pitiful...

And I tearfully told C that I needed a hug, and he came over and wrapped me up in his arms and let me cry, and listened to my sobbed explanation of how sad I was, and how I feel like so much of my life has been stolen from me, and then he wiped away my tears and patted my hand and told me to lay down. So I did. And he sat back down at the computer and proceeded to remind me that I am so much more than just my sickness... I am a person, and being sick is just a little part of my life and who I am. Not only that, but I'm doing the very best that I can, so I just have to remember that, keep doing my best, and not worry about anything else. So I took that and ran with it and kinda pep talked myself back into feeling sort of okay with myself and the world again... and that's where I'm at right now.

I'm still sad, it's true. I'm grieving the life that was... I'm grieving the Saturday that could have been, had I not been sick. There are so many things I'd love to do with today... but I can't. I really just can't.

But there are things I can do. I can spend time with my husband. I can write a blog post. I can continue to plan and plot for our new house. I can go for a (short, very short) walk, and that's what I'm going to do right now.

I'm taking the stick, though.

I figure it's high time I wrote about the wedding and the surrounding events, before the rapid pace of life whirls me too far away to remember anything that happened.

The weeks leading up to the wedding were fairly peaceful. C insisted that I pace myself, learn to "rest" and "relax", whatever that means. (It meant I did a lot of sitting around, bored out of my mind, is what it meant!) As the wedding drew closer, though, I became very grateful for those rest periods, because the heat started turning up.

I knew that I wouldn't be able to handle a ton of stress, so I deliberately planned my wedding tasks in such a way that by the time the week before the wedding came, I would have practically nothing to do. I am certainly glad that I did, because last minute tasks cropped up by the dozen! In addition to finishing up last minute details, my family arrived a few days before the wedding. Of course, I wanted to spend time with them, plus I still had school to attend to, so I was bouncing all over the place, trying to keep my bases covered. Fortunately for me, C had the week before the wedding completely off of work, which was a huge blessing. He was able to help me accomplish tasks and even take care of things that I was unable to handle myself. (Like the day he did my laundry for me, because I had to be out at work/school all day and knew I'd be exhausted by the time I made it home.) I could really get used to having him around more often, I tell you...

The week before the wedding was a blur. Those extended rest periods? Gone by the wayside. My family was in town, I was working, going to school, trying to coordinate a bunch of people and recover from our weekend trip out of town, all at the same time. I really don't remember much of it, frankly, except that I was tired a lot, and I was in pain a lot. I do remember taking R with me to my acupuncturist so that he could see and understand for himself what we're trying to accomplish, and so that she could explain the necessity for such intense and prolonged (and expensive!) treatment to him firsthand.

The Thursday before the wedding, we met with our officiant to go over the ceremony and make sure that we were all on the same page. The S's and H were scheduled to get in that day, somewhat late I thought. Turns out they showed up while we were with our officiant, so we had to run over there and settle them into the house they'd be staying at. It was empty at the time, because I was housesitting for the owners, so having people there full time really took a burden off my mind. Plus they fed the dogs for me! After getting them squared away, C and I went back to our errands.

When I walked out the door that Thursday morning, I had a plan of attack in my mind, and I knew just how the day was going to go. Cash a check, go shopping for a last minute "thank you" gift with my mom and the girls in the morning, hit my acupuncture appointment, meet our officiant, rest a bit, then welcome the girls to their "new home". Yeah, not so much... I walked outside to find that my car had a completely flat tire! And then, on top of that, Mom was running about an hour late. (Not abnormal at all.) We just had time to pick up what I needed before we had to race back to make my appointment on time. Then came the officiant's meeting, followed by the mad dash to let the girls in, and then a trip to get my tire fixed. That took a good chunk of time, and after that I had to stop by the pharmacy and get my prescription straightened out, which also took a good hour or so. By the time we made it home, I'd been going for like, 8 hours straight, and I was a zombie. I had run out of spoons hours before, but I forced myself to keep going, because what else can you do?

Friday came, full of lounging by my parent's hotel room pool, putting together favors, and just generally having a pretty good time. It was nice, and we got most of the last minute stuff squared away. I sucked it up and asked for help from my minions, since they were all so eager to make sure that I was resting and relaxing and not wearing myself ragged. (Pride. It's hard for me to ask for help, since I "should" be able to do some of these things myself, right?) J baked our special cupcakes, K cleaned my bathroom, and H worked on wedding stuff.

Saturday was the day before the wedding, and the stress was back on. Mom came over after church to play around with my hair and makeup, and we baaaaarely got me figured out before it was time to dash over to the park for the rehearsal. I was fine, up until we had to actually go through the motions and say the words that we'd be saying the next day. I felt like I was going to throw up, or pass out, or any combination of the two. I really, really did not want to be getting married the next day. (The photographers noted in later conversation that they could tell, because apparently the expressions on my face mirrored my inside emotions. Greaaaaaat. I really want that recorded for posterity!)

As we were pulling into the park for the rehearsal, I got a phone call from the bakery. The nice baker lady was calling to inquire if I'd be coming to pick up my cake, since they were closing for the weekend in half an hour. Needless to say, I died a little inside, but I assured the nice baker lady that someone was supposed to be in charge of picking up the cake, and I was sure she was on her way. I then hung up and put it out of my mind, since there was absolutely nothing I could do about the situation. If we didn't have cake, we didn't have cake. Oh well.

After the rehearsal, C and I headed out to dinner with some of his family, and I really enjoyed myself. I was able to find something to order straight off of the menu, with no alterations or substitutions! WOW.  That, like, never happens. I was pretty thrilled, and it turned out to be delicious... if not entirely healthy. (Chicken wrapped in bacon and topped with melted cheese? No?) While we were out to dinner, my minions were at my place, frosting cupcakes. Mom was there doing something too, but I can't remember what.

I was surprised that I was able to sleep at all the night before the wedding, but C and I cuddled right up to each other and I drifted off with remarkable ease.

The wedding day is a whole entire post on its own, so I'll stop here.

I will say, however, that I was thrilled to have as many family and friends be able to make it for my wedding as did. There was so much emotional rollercoastering going on in the weeks and months prior to the wedding as I found out that certain beloved folks could/could not come... I finally just went numb and accepted that whatever was going to happen was going to happen and I just couldn't spare the emotions for it anymore.

Spending time with my family and the girls was definitely a highlight of the days leading up to the wedding, for sure. I guess that, no matter how far away I move, I'll always be a homebody of sorts at heart.

Things have changed for me a little since I developed full-blown fibromyalgia. There are a few things that I do now that I consider part of my "fibro life" that weren't a part of my life before. I find them a little funny, frankly...

For instance, Fibro Life Confession #1 would be this: I have 3 specific songs that I listen to, sing along with, and dance to every time I take a shower. I don't listen to these songs any other time, really, but during shower time. These are my "eff yeah, I'm a WARRIOR!" songs that get me jazzed about going another round with fibro, and the warmth of the shower that eases some of the aches and pains gives me the freedom to get my groove on in a way that I can't any other time.

I usually start out with "Try" by Pink, move on to "Part of Me" by Katy Perry, and finish up with the cancer survivor music video version of "Stronger" by Kelly Clarkson. If I've got time, or if I'm in the mood, I'll also toss "Shine" by Owl City in there, or "Shadows" by Lindsey Stirling. But without fail, I listen to my three warrior songs. (They also help me get up the energy and motivation that I need to make it through a shower. It's something fun to look forward to in something that I otherwise kind of dread these days.)

Remember what I was saying yesterday, about marriage actually turning out to be a good thing, and then listing all the little reasons that have convinced me?

Well, this post over at A Practical Wedding seems like someone was reading my mind... like I had a conversation with someone who understands my fears and trepidations, had faced them herself, and then poured the advice that comes from years more experience into a letter and handed it to me.

Seriously. You gotta read it.

How To Be In Love. (Emphasis on the "be".)

My biggest fear, the thing that brought waves of panic during the countdown to the wedding and an overwhelming sense of dread, anxiety, and nausea during the wedding rehearsal was that getting married would change everything. To be more specific, I was terrified that getting married would ruin our relationship. I mean, everything was so great, so healthy... but most of the marriages I've seen are anything but those two adjectives. They don't even remotely apply... and I was scared. If that's what marriage does to a relationship, I don't want it!

I am relieved to report that this has been far from true. My greatest fear has gone unrealized... and I am so relieved. Honestly, it's basically the same as it was before, but somehow a little better. There's no concrete "this is how being married has changed things", but it's really just a bunch of little moments all stacked together that make me think that being married just might be worth it.

Silly mock-fights in the kitchen as he tries to hang a spoon on the end of my nose, and I retaliate by flinging water at him.

Working in seamless tandem to put away groceries, pack up laundry, and zip through the grocery store.

Him automatically handing me my stick when we exit his truck.

Bringing him a glass of juice from the kitchen, because I'm in there anyway.

Him waking me up from a nap with a big fat kiss on the mouth, and gentle kisses on my forehead.

Curling up against each other in the deep hours of the night, and knowing each other's sleep patterns intimately.

Him kissing the back of my hand and calling me "scrumptious" or "little wifey", or my scratching his back while he sits at his desk and realizing that this is my husband.

Just little things like that. They're nice things, fun things. But there are the hard things, too, that help me realize it's worth it.

When I'm tossing and moaning with fever and intense pain, and he brings me water, turns on the fan, brings me pain killers, whatever I need.

When we're discussing tight finances and he includes me in his decision as to which funds to allocate where.

When I decide to postpone my dream for a year because of health reasons, and he supports me completely because I've talked through my reasons with him and he believes in me and trusts me.

When flashbacks strike and I'm crying, shaking in fear or anger, and he talks me down from the pinnacle of my distress.

So in answer to all those people all asking the same question... Yes. I am enjoying the married life. I think it was a good decision, and I'm really, really glad that I was wrong. (So far. Heh. Gotta leave room for eventualities, right?)

I am enough.

I matter.

I am important.

I am a beautiful light.

There is hope.

Okay, I'm definitely better after some sleep... and a couple of inspirational posts by fellow chronic illness bloggers.

I'm actually not up for the day, but I woke up because my bladder was screaming at me, and my stomach was hollering for food. So I'm up for quick snack, but it's back to bed with me in a few minutes.

Look for wedding posts coming up soon, but I did want to make a couple of quick notes of little things that I'll forget if I don't record.

First, and most notably, C and I had all kinds of fun, introspective conversation snatches during the honeymoon itself, and the ride back home. I learned a few things.

• C genuinely thinks that I'm attractive and beautiful. (Right, it's one of those things that you already know, but it's nice to learn it again and again.)
• He considers me the type who doesn't get easily offended over things.
• I am not a nagger by nature. I really have to try to nag in order to get it right.
• Unless I change as a person (i.e. becoming super Christian again and trying to force that upon C), he cannot conceive of a scenario where he would regret marrying me. He said that even if I become super ill, bedridden and unable to take care of myself, he would still not regret marrying me. He would be sad at what happened to me, but he would not regret marrying me at all.
• C is happy that we are building a life together as well, he just is not giddily happy about it as I am. He is reserving judgment on the whole scenario until the "honeymoon phase" passes-- about 6 months in. (This is similar to him refusing to be excited/happy about the house until he's got the front door key in his hand.)
• C has no expectations for married life. He considered marriage to be more of a goal, like a box on a checklist. He has been working towards marriage because that's just what you do: grow up, get a job, move out, get married, have a family. Lather, rinse, repeat.

Another thing is that guys will get all kinds of goofy in the head, evidenced by big goofy smiles, when you step outside your comfort zone to do something fun and sexy for them, no matter how nervous you are.

Thirdly, people treat you all kinds of nice when they find out you're a newlywed. How long does the newlywed status apply, anyway? Like, really, how long can I milk this? ;)

I'm still not anxious to return to "normal life". Vacation was nice, I won't lie. And having a vacation with someone else? It's so different than taking off on a trip or adventure of my own! Especially when that someone else pays for everything! ^_^ Truthfully, though, we did spend a few hundred less dollars than he was anticipating. We used less gas than C thought we would (all the attractions were within a five minute drive of the hotel), we ate out less, and the Sea World tickets were already paid for, so...

We did pick up one souvenir, besides the stamped pennies that I collected everywhere we went. We got a blown glass paperweight thingy, an elongated circle with a flat bottom. It has a white jellyfish inside that glows in the dark. Very cool. It was between that or a Sea World t-shirt. Um, no contest! I plan to use the four or five pennies as part of a commemorative windchime (seashells and pennies, anyone?), and I kept the maps and tickets and stuff to scrapbook along with our wedding photos.

We didn't take many photos, but here's a random bonus photo, just for fun. (He said he was smiling. Hmm.)