Broken

While TGW and I trudged back to the car after racing through the mall trying to retrieve my forgotten purse, he asked me "Are you broken?"

What a question!

(I said yes, btw.)

It's kind of funny in that I-banged-my-elbow kind of way. A twinge. A prick of the nerve. I am, for lack of a better term, kind of broken.

Mental health to be disregarded, I have a lot of issues physically. I've already had my gallbladder removed (before I turned 21). I have had quite a few (moderately severe) knocks to the head. My back is in shit shape even after a year of chiropractor visits and adjustments. My neck is worse. I'm recovering from that, though, I guess.

I talked to him on a drive home from my parents about how angry I am. I'm angry because I am 22 years old, and I can't do a lot of things I want to. On Saturday, we did a rock climbing wall - not anything difficult, honestly, or anything too strenuous, by normal people's standards. My body hurt for three days. It still kind of aches. Every time I participate in any moderately strenuous physical activity, I risk being unable to do anything for a couple days (or possibly having to keep doing things, but hurt like hell during the entire process). 

I get hurt while I'm sleeping. What the fuck, amirite? I'm serious, though. I'll be lying in bed and get what some people might consider, at first, to be a charlie horse. But then, it keeps going. Over, and over again, until I'm literally shouting in pain. It wakes TGW. I cry a little. My leg will hurt for days after that. Sometimes, the next day, I can't walk right. It hurts to walk.

Let me say that again: It hurts to walk, because I get hurt while I'm sleeping. What. The everloving. Fuck.

This is, supposedly, result of my fibromyalgia. I don't know how this shit works, and I don't think anyone right now does. It's stupid. It is complicated and makes no sense. Lots of people have it and lots of people don't believe it exists.

You know what people tell me? 

"It's all in your head."

Well, yes. It is. So is EVERYTHING ELSE. The brain and nervous system controls everything. That doesn't invalidate the pain I feel daily. It's not a mental disorder. It's definitely physical, and if you don't believe me, that's your problem. 

Sometimes, it hurts so much that I am afraid to do things I love. You know, things like... run around my house to chase my pets. Walk up the steps to my third floor. Have sex. Ride a bike. Climb a tree. Wear high heels. Sleep.

I'm twenty-two years old. 

I'm broken.