My Pain

It’s been a week since the specialist gave a name to the mystery ailment eating away at my life. Fibromyalgia is a strange word that has far too many syllables for its good.  “Algia” the Latin word for pain, “fibro” refers to fibrous tissues, and “my” muscles. Fibromyalgia doesn’t affect joints or bones and is undetectable by any diagnostic imaging or blood test. Diagnosing Fibromyalgia is no easy task. Firstly every other possibility must be explored. Every direction carefully travelled with a beacon of dimmed hope that this time the reward for the journey will yield answers. In most cases after years of blindly following the winding paths through various referrals, tests, and dead ends all that is left is Fibromyalgia. 

Scientists aren’t certain exactly what causes Fibromyalgia. The majority of humans diagnosed with fibromyalgia also have experienced some form of trauma which is why it’s considered a contributing factor. I don’t have to guess what invited my Fibromyalgia in, it’s there in the word itself “my pain.” Like many survivors of childhood trauma, I struggle to believe my memories. Grasping desperately for tangible evidence that can’t be refuted or denied. I was taught my memories were not enough, that I must have remembered everything wrong. I ask my support team again and again why they believe me when no one else did. How can they possibly know that what I am saying is the truth? The answer is that emotional abuse does leave marks if you know where to look. 

I try so hard to believe myself, and not second guess my memories, but it’s always fleeting. Not long after every therapy session, I would begin questioning my life experiences again. I lacked the tangible proof that I thought I needed. It’s curious that like the abuse I suffered, fibromyalgia leaves no physical evidence and no tangible proof.  It is a diagnosis of exclusion. When there’s absolutely no other reason to explain why you have to fight so hard to just live your life, it’s Fibromyalgia.

There’s no cure for fibromyalgia, the same as there is no cure for the years stolen from me by the parents who couldn’t love me. You can’t make either of these afflictions go away, you have to find a way to live around them. I am not sure how things will turn out and whether or not my physical health will improve, but hopefully being able to give my suffering a label will help me move forward.

 I experienced emotional and psychological trauma due to my parents’ abuse and my body remembers.