Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Fibro Hangover

It is not the clear-sighted who rule the world. 
Great achievements are accomplished in a 
blessed, warm fog. 
Joseph Conrad 

I am indeed in a fog but it's not blessed or warm.  Just a fog of ache and pain and the overwhelming need to sleep a bit.  Like 37 hours or so.  Fibromyalgia is like that, especially when I pretend THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH ME, I'M FINE, THANK YOU, I CAN DO THIS, I'M JUST A LITTLE zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.............

There's usually a little something that comes before the fog; not always, but usually.  Maybe less sleep, maybe going full throttle instead of coasting a bit, ALWAYS conveniently forgetting the fact that I have fibromyalgia and that my body can no longer do what my spirit tells it to.  I mean I've only lived with it for 18 years.  I guess I'm a slow learner when it comes to stuff I don't want to learn.

At least I had fun before the fog rolled in.  I spent the weekend with Debby Schuh.  Debby was in for CHA and taught 3 amazing classes at C3 and a great and creative time was had by all.  I felt the fog rolling in Saturday morning but I tried my very best to ignore it. Oh I am SO good at ignoring it and barreling ahead.  I wasn't going to miss a second of the fun and learning and creative energy.  Yes, my inner child is a four year old who needs a nap.  So I finished the last class Saturday afternoon and went home and crashed.  You may recall that Saturday was my wedding anniversary?  Yeah.  It was a glorious celebration of me sleeping and Steve reading the paper.  I have vague memories of a wild and crazy and spontaneous (and much younger) couple from years ago, I swear.  

Anyway, I was dragging Sunday and feeling a teeny bit better Monday so I did the logical thing and painted the closet in my studio.  Logical in the ARE YOU INSANE kind of logic.  It needed to be done so I could finally complete the  studio and it's just a closet, right?  How long could it take?  Drum roll, please: 4 hours.  That's right, folks, 4 miserable hours.  The closet paint wasn't the same stuff I used on the walls. I bought a gallon of ooops paint in a light blue for $5. I've learned that ooops paint is awesome only if it has the primer built in; otherwise it doesn't cover well and it smells and gives out headaches for free.  I also learned that the investment of smaller paint rollers for an enclosed space is definitely a wise decision.  By the time I was done wielding big painty wall rollers in a tight little area I had more paint on me than on the walls.  But the most important lesson I learned was that the $400 estimate to paint my studio was a BARGAIN. Painters earn every penny they charge and the room would have been complete in one day. Seriously?  I don't know how that's even possible but I won't be painting rooms again...famous last words. I'll post photos of the studio once everything's back in place, but here's a sneak peek of one of my favorite areas; I'm a pro at making the most of the space available:
Formerly unused space behind the door.
The color is Behr "Honeydew."

Somewhere in the chaos of the past few days I completed a custom order for Beth.  These are a set of Altered Art Blocks for a friend's 40th. birthday and I hope she adores them!

In spite of how lousy I feel, I guess I have accomplished a few (great?) achievements in my current fog: I took some awesome art classes, celebrated 33 years of wedded bliss, finished painting the studio, and finished a custom order.  

Time for a nap.


  1. Hope this one posts!! You are amazing!!!

  2. Why? Because I have fibro and I don't listen to my body? Or because I buy crappy paint and use rollers that are too big?

  3. you got a lot more done than I did -
    and I have not excuse - just lazy I guess -
    too hot for anything


  4. Ah Yes. The fibrofog. We pay for every moment we get with double duty. Have you noticed the three day effect? You overdo it and three days later it is like a train hit. I don't want to say it's nice to hear somebody else with the same problems but well, you know. It is so hard to understand and explain this syndrome. Sleep is the most important. I don't think I would do any painting. I leave the house. Hope you are feeling better soon.

  5. There's no rhyme or reason with fibro but the 3 day effect is very true. The first two days after you feel crappy-ER, but the third day is like the tap on the shoulder and then the knock-out punch, and today's the third day. Thanks for the reminder, Rita. Every time it happens it's brand new...can you say short term memory fog? Take care and thanks for your comments.

  6. I am so sorry you suffer like you do with such a dehabilitating disease. I have to say, if it matters, that your art, being a mindful activity (one that requires your total focus), shows the healing power of art--it helps you and it feels very good to the viewer. You're blog speaks to me because it is a testiment to working through pain both internally and physically--I sell my art but I've been looking for a PT job just to use different talents--I haven't been able to find a thing. Art saves me too--and I think your story and your Art just helped save me a bit more...we all have something that we cope with...and ART saves!

  7. Pam, I so appreciate your comments. I can feel your caring spirit coming through the computer screen. Art saves in SO many ways. Do you follow Jenny Doh's blog (http://blog.crescendoh.com)? I love reading about the personal stories of people and their struggles and OVERCOMING those struggles...hope breeds hope, doesn't it? Thanks again for reading and for taking the time to comment; I wish you a lovely and creative day.


Thanks for visiting Chaos and Art. I appreciate your comments and hope you stop by again soon. Until then, create a little havoc of your own!