I was officially diagnosed with fibromyalgia on November 27, 2017. It was the culmination of a long semester full of frustration and self-loathing. In many ways getting the diagnosis was just the start of the journey, since now that I knew what I had, I had to figure out how to manage it. I feel that I am finally making headway on that, over a year later.
This picture was taken on the day of my diagnosis at the doctor’s office while waiting for the rheumatologist to come in. I was wearing a full face of make up and a professional-looking dress. I look at that picture and I try to find evidence of how incredibly exhausted I felt. Of course there’s really nothing there, because fibromyalgia is an invisible illness. There was really nothing wrong with me except an unrelenting fatigue, a fatigue that no amount of sleep would conquer, a fatigue that usually put me out of commission by mid-morning every day. My mind was foggy and I could hardly comprehend the work that was in front of me. The field work I had to do sapped all the energy out of me and my brain felt like it was filled with thick cotton. But there was nothing wrong with me, so I pushed and pushed and pushed through until something had to give.