I have fallen off the health bandwagon. The Fibromyalgia is in full bloom again, but it stinks like the blooming of one of those disgusting Corpse Flowers. I say I fell of the wagon, but truthfully I leaned too damn far off the side trying to pull the temptations onto the wagon with me.
And so, from the hell of Fibro-land… from the pits of near excruciating fatigue, from the depths of ever threatening, often unendurable pain, the confusion of brain-fog and the anxiety and depression that it all brings… I finally give you Healing Rebel.
I’d love for you to join me, but feel free to simply watch as I claw, slide, scrape, curse, cry, drag myself out of this hole (that I knew better than to toy with).
I’m going to kick the painkillers and reclaim the life of strength, comfort, peace, happiness and energy that I learned how to grab years ago.
I’m 31. 17.5 years were stolen by the FibroBeast. Today is the beginning of the end.
Treat, Manage and Supress are no longer part of my vocabulary.
I am a Rebel.
I am a Healer.
As of today; no. more. wheat.
No more gluten.
No more “natural flavors”, carageenan, binders, emulsifiers, derivatives.
No more bullshit. No more excuses.
It’s me or them. Sink or swim. Suck it up. Buck up.
I’ll write honestly about my failures, my feelings, struggles and successes.
Bring it, Baby. You can’t keep a good Rebel down.