When I first got sick in 1989, I had no idea what was wrong with me and to be honest, I feared the worst. I lived in that fear for 10 years, very sick, very depressed, very confused, very frightened and very lonely. Not alone, mind you, lonely. And, unless you've been in the darkest pits of purgatory (depression) it's very hard to explain the difference. I have always considered myself very blessed to have my daughter, my (now) husband and my family. They are my life, my breath and my world! It was inside my own frightened head and my very sick body that I was truly lonely.

For years, I saw Dr. after Dr. and all they kept telling me was, “There’s nothing wrong with you, this test came back fine, that test came back fine. I’d like to refer you to go see a very good...wait for it...Psychiatrist”. Yes, they were telling me it was all in my head. So, not having a single Dr. acknowledge, or even understand for that matter, what was happening to me, I was left to fend for myself...

Needless to say, I did a whole lot of nothing. What could I do? I couldn't move, sleep, eat, nothing and no one was giving me any answers. What on earth was I possibly going to do?! So, I sat. That's it. Aside from reaching deep into my soul and pulling out every ounce of strength that I had to take care of my daughter (with the loving help of my family) I did nothing else. Just some good old-fashioned, nothin-to-see-here-folks, move along now, NOTHING. I couldn't, I was in excruciating pain, I was in severe depression, each breath I took felt like my last, I had absolutely no energy what-so-ever. I had such severe anxiety attacks and panic attacks, that I wanted to jump out of my own body and take my baby and run as far away as I possibly could. But, I couldn't, I could barely walk across the room. Where on earth was I going to go anyway?

There was no way I could take care of my daughter and myself without my family. I couldn't even work a part-time job. I couldn't work, because I couldn't move, I couldn't sleep, I couldn't stop crying, I couldn't eat, I couldn't even take a fricking shower without the pain and fatigue knocking me down for the rest of the day. I just sat. I sat and I waited. What was I waiting for? An answer, I just wanted one single answer to just one single question. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME!? Somebody, please just tell me. I'm so frightened, I don't want to die, please just help me. But, nothing...

Nothing, until 10 years later when I opened a book I had bought ("Prescription for Nutritional Healing" by Phyllis and James Balch) and I just happened to look down at a word I had never seen or even heard before, "Fibromyalgia". So, out of curiosity, I started to read it; chronic muscle pain, migraines, hypoglycemia, fatigue, TMJ, heart palpitations, irritable bowel/bladder, insomnia, anxiety/panic attacks... "SLAM"! I closed that book so fricking fast, I think I broke the sound barrier! I mean COME ON! Every...Single...Symptom? I had no idea on this green earth what Fibromyalgia was, so why would I want it? Right? Wrong. I realized it was, by far, better than anything I had feared for 10 long years.

So, I marched my happy little butt back to the Drs., handed them the book and told them, "Here you go, I found it. Now lets fix it"...