A Hobby of Sorts

Yesterday I had to fill out a medical history. One of the questions was, “What are your hobbies?” It dawned on me that, sweet Jesus on a Sunday, I don’t have any hobbies. I used to have hobbies. I used to write, a lot. I used to garden, I used to craft. I made homemade birthday cards with rivets and embossed stamps and multiple layers of stationary. I could name all of the perennials in my garden, and probably yours, too. I had a craft room. I had an intricately landscaped garden. Then…I had children. And as most mothers will attest, hobbies tend to go by the wayside when children are small. But mine are getting older, not too old mind you, and it’s time I found a hobby. My heart lies with writing, so it is there that I begin.

I started this blog eight years ago! Okay, I bought the domain name eight years ago. That’s how long I’ve been intending to form a supportive community of fellow fibromites, or fibromyalgia sufferers. I like to think of myself as a woman of action but eight years of owning a blog domain I didn’t use points to the possibility that I am not. I’m okay with this. It’s been a busy eight years. I’ve been bearing, adopting, and raising children. It’s been the joy of my life, but certainly no small feat with fibromyalgia. And like most fibromites, I don’t have just one condition. I’ve got a rap sheet like a serial killer:

  • Hashimoto’s thyroiditis
  • Chronic fatigue syndrome
  • Depression
  • Anxiety
  • ADHD
  • Sleep apnea
  • Scoliosis
  • Inappropriate sinus tachycardia

It sounds like a lot, but research has shown that fibromyalgia likes to travel in groups. If you yourself have fibro, this list may not look all that unfamiliar to you, unfortunately.

I’ll keep this first post short. Mostly because I’m sitting in my car with my two youngest sons asleep in the back, and in fifteen minutes I have to wake them up to get my oldest son from school. I need a few minutes to emotionally prepare myself before I have to wake the Krakens.

Until tomorrow, friends.

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