What does “Froggy” look like?

So, if you’ve been unwell for years, you’ve probably been faced with series’ of questions about how you feel. And statements about how you ‘don’t look sick’. This is normal of other people to ask, but is so frustrating to have to answer! Especially if you cannot come up with a reason that will make any sense.
If I’m having a froggy day, forget it, you won’t get a logical answer out of me. I will become instantly frustrated and anxious. Not because you asked the question, but because I simply cannot get the answer to come out of my mouth and make sense at the same time!
This has bothered me for some time. Can I really be sick if I cannot explain it to anyone? Apparently, yes I can. One of the afflictions that rears its ugly head when you have fibromyalgia is called fibro-fog. This is the inability to concentrate, form proper sentences, make simple decisions, use the right words, and remember simple things like names and titles. In my case, it also includes the inability to hear properly if words are spoken too fast.
Just today I was introduced to Christine Miserandino and her “Spoon Theory”. And thanks to my wonderful sister, this day has inspired me to start this blog. Finally, an explanation that makes sense to the normal everyday person!
To sum it up, Christine’s Spoon Theory states that when you have an illness (especially one that can’t be seen) you have to count your spoons at the start of every day and prepare to spend them all. Every task, even the simple ones like getting out of bed, will cost you a spoon, and sometimes two. When you are out of spoons, you are out of functional energy. For more information, and I really urge you to read her theory, visit Christine’s site at www.butyoudontlooksick.com.
I had my own way of describing how I felt, but this theory makes way more sense. I used to tell people that going to the post office was “too many steps”. Not just steps as in get in the car, get out of the car, but literally, how many steps it would take me to get to the car, and then get in the car, and then get out of the car, and then how many steps it would take to get into the post office, and then back again. If I thought something required more steps than I could handle, I just didn’t do it. This led to an anxiety disorder that kept me in my house for a year and a half (but that’s another blog entry for another day).
So now, that I know to count my spoons every morning, I can move forward with my spoon-rationing life in a happy sort of way. No more depressing thoughts about why I am like I am, just good thoughts about how to live the way I am.