The valedictorian at my nephew’s graduation gave a funny and moving speech. She had the entire football stadium laughing with jokes about her mixed heritage – her mother is Mexican and her father is Jewish. She apologized to everyone unable to find a seat because her mother had her entire side of the family seated in the home-side bleachers. Such a witty girl, and by the time she changed the tone of the speech she held everyone’s attention.

Her tone changed as she went on to point out and talk about individual students – not the jocks, or the cheerleaders, or the ASB officers though. Her list was filled with the classmates who went mostly unnoticed over the past four years – students who stayed in the background for one reason or another, yet still made up the unique fabric of her graduating class. I found myself in tears over stories of students I had never met, and who maybe even my nephew had never met. She painted such a lovely picture of how each of them were individuals, and they should embrace who they are, and they should all be proud of the contribution they made to their graduating class. Her message really impressed and inspired me.

I woke up this morning thinking about it, and about how it applies to so much more than just her graduating class. I laid in bed thinking about how many of us with Fibromyalgia and chronic illness are like those students who remain in the background. We struggle to participate. We struggle to reach our full potential. We struggle to contribute to our homes, and our jobs, and our communities. Our lives are a struggle, and yet we still are – each of us – uniquely individual and valuable.

It is hard to honor your contribution when all you can see is what you are no longer able to do. It is hard to embrace who you are when all you can do is miss who you used to be. Chronic illness is hard, but as I once heard a very wise girl say, the fabric of our lives would be completely different if just one “student” made the choice not to complete this journey. Have compassion for yourself. Accept who you are. Embrace your individuality and honor your contribution. I do!

The best part of my blog though has been the connections I have made with people who also struggle with Fibromyalgia and other chronic illnesses. It brings me joy when someone takes the time to leave a comment because something I wrote spoke to them, or when someone adds Fibromyalgia Haven to the blog roll on their own site as a recommendation to their readers. Recently I discovered a new blog because of the link she created by adding me to her blog roll. I wanted to share with you her latest post and introduce you to the brave woman and talented artist Kellie Robinson.

Here is a excerpt from her post and an example of her art:

About a decade ago, when I first found I was addicted to polymer clay, I fell in love with doing filigree work. I discovered eventually I could blend my clay colors as I was extruding them, and I became even more entranced.

Shortly after this, I became a victim of a violent crime. I was at work, and a guy put a gun up to my head while he robbed us. I immediately had a severe post traumatic stress attack. I couldn’t leave my house or go anywhere by myself, and work was out of the question. I sat around and thought about the incident over and over. My husband had to drive me to therapy appointments, because I thought I saw this guys car every time I got behind the wheel. After a week or two I eventually turned to my clay and my new discovery. For almost a month, I worked on these beads. While working on the beads, I just blocked everything out, and would get so caught up in them that I forgot to think about the armed robbery. That is just the way it is whenever I do the filigree work. They really did help me to heal. The beads are quite large, I really never meant to wear it. It was meant as an art piece, even though I didn’t consider myself to be an artist at that time. A friend talked me into submitting them to a magazine, Jewelry Crafts, and to my amazement, they published the piece, with my instructions.

I ended up developing fibromyalgia shortly after the armed robbery (there is a connection!) and over the years, my clay went on the back burner. I spent the last 3 yrs trying to work full time at the bead store, and that didn’t really leave me much energy for my clay. I was still teaching polymer clay, but rarely brought the clay out just for myself. About a year ago, I decided I wanted to try some filigree again. I remembered how therapeutic it was, sitting and coiling the strands of clay, gently making precise cuts so everything fit together like a glove. I don’t know how to explain it, other then it’s almost like a trance-like state.

 

I was so touched by Kellie’s post and the telling of her traumatic experience, which developed into Fibromyalgia. If she had not created the link between our two worlds I may never have heard her story or seen her beautiful wearable art. Aren’t her beads amazing! Kellie’s description of the therapeutic “trance-like” state she goes into when creating them is the reason I think art exists. It is an outlet, an expression, and a gift. I wanted to share Kellie’s gift with you and also share the comment she left me after I left one to her:

fibrohaven, I have to tell you I had mixed feelings about posting this blog. I really thought my artsy friends would have no interest in my health problems. I thought about it for over a month before I finally posted it. 

I am very new to blogging, and don’t at all understand how you found my post, but I am so glad you did. of all the posts I might possibly get, I can promise you that yours will mean the most to me. I found your blog about a month or so ago, and have found it to be the most up to date, SMARTEST, no bullshit info on fibromyalgia. I wish everyone in my life read your blog. I have been devouring your blog! it’s not just the info on your blog, but the artistic element I find there…it speaks to me. 

 

Reading her comment was most certainly one of my defining moments since beginning my blog. It may seem self-serving that I am sharing it with you, but I do not mean it to be. Instead I mean to show the power of sharing and connecting. The connection Kellie made has been meaningful to both of us. By sharing my life and my story Kellie learned she is not alone in her struggles, and by sharing with me how reading my blog has affected her, I have learned that my voice has purpose and that my story is meaningful. Is there a greater gift then that?

I am so proud of you Kellie for being brave enough to share your truth, even though you worried that your friends may not understand or be interested. I hope they surprised you with their compassion and understanding. And now you can count me among your friends. I do care, and I do understand. Thank you so much for connecting our two worlds. I hope your story will inspire others to do the same.

P.S. And you most definitely are an artist!

It started with my blog, which forced me to open up about the fact that I have Fibromyalgia, and about how very hard it is to manage my life sometimes. I feel like I have finally come clean, and that I no longer need to keep up the appearance of the strong, healthy person I once was, and used to pretend to still be. My life feels more honest now. Fibromyalgia Haven has brought me integrity and self-acceptance. And it has brought me a new set of online friends and contacts which I value very much.

Then the support group happened. I think my blog helped prepare me to lead my support group. I don’t think I would be a very effective leader if I was still too ashamed or embarrassed to talk about my health. I take a lot of pride in the organization and planning, and I feel so fortunate to have the ability and desire to help the group grow, learn and prosper. The women in the group are fantastic! Such a smart, fun, friendly group who listen with compassion and share with honesty. Everyone is eager to improve their health which has lead me to do a lot of  research for resources.  My research has been very educational and enlightening, and best of all it took me to the next great thing in my life right now, the Wellness Center.

Initially I went to the Wellness Center to ask them to be a sponsor for our group and allow us to have our meetings there. Shortly after touring the facility I realized the enormous potential the Center had to help me improve my health and my life. And not just because of the classes and fitness expertise that they offer – each person I have connected with there has in some way contributed to the development of my support group – whether it is through contacts, or resources, or simply with encouragement. They are more than just a sponsor for the group, they are an interested and active partner. And it is working both ways. They have referred several people on to me who were looking for resources and information about Fibromyalgia, and I was very happy to help.

Fibromyagia is a part of my life for a reason. I can no longer ignore or deny it. I no longer want to ignore or deny it. Now that I have opened my life to the reality of it, my life has improved. It makes me think of the great Mexican painter and hero Frida. Her life was shaped by the pain she suffered as a result of the tragic bus accident. There is an inseparable duality between her pain and her passion for life that overwhelms her art. Would her art be as spectacular and enduring if not for the accident that sentenced her to a life of unbearable pain? I wonder. Was she meant to suffer so she could tap into her creativity? Much of her art is gruesome in its depiction of her struggles, and yet it was not without hope. 

Viva la Vida is Frida’s last painting. It was finished in 1954, the year of her death. She was bed ridden, highly medicated, and just a shell of her former self. So where did she find the inspiration to paint such a hopeful painting? Maybe it was because she lived her life exactly as she was meant to, working with her disabilities and limitations instead of working against them. Maybe it was because she knew she lived her life honestly and with integrity. Whatever the reason, I admire her greatly. And right now, in this moment, I believe I am on a similar journey to creating a legacy of my own.

Viva La Vida - Long Live Life!