These last few days my fibromyalgia pain has increased to the point I cannot function without assistance in the home. In fact, just talking to you now has been an effort and typing has seen my muscle and tendons cramp and spasm.
So I will be doing some minimal housework today, just to keep the wheels moving, but I have enlisted some help from my husband.
My focus will be on clearing clothes from my clean laundry tub and cooking something for tonight. Chris will vacuum a bit for me later on.
We both will be doing dishes from last night and whatever accumulates as we eat breakfast and lunch and I cook dinner.
This is the time when I find myself weepy and inclined to lapse into false guilt. For some reason my perfectionism increases as my spoons decrease, and I have to put into practice what I have spoken about and believe: it is not my fault that I am chronically ill and God loves me just the way I am. Thank goodness, it's not about how fast I spin my wheel!
Today, fibromyalgia has won: I am on a go slow, pacing and napping mode. It is all I can manage to keep awake. Today is going to be a wash out. The wanna be June Cleaver is dragging her heels.