Guilt Attack - Gibbs-Slap Me

Dear John,

 

I'm having a guilt attack. And, having shared that fact on Facebook, I have people lined up to Gibbs-slap me, bless them. I could use a stern talking-to from you, too.

 

I had to miss church again today. Now that you're gone and the fibro is still here, after working all week I have so much pain and exhaustion on the weekends that I can't do much but rest. And get ready for the next week. I don't mind losing my Saturdays, but I hate missing church on Sunday. And what nobody but a fibromite could ever understand is that being around a large group of people is so exhausting. I don't know why that is, but I see it all over the discussion boards. It seems to be true for all of us.

 

I remember years ago when Nancy was first diagnosed, she had to give up church entirely. She worked full-time and had three children at home to take care of, and there was no other path of survival for her. I sympathized as much as I could then, but now I really understand. Since I don't have the three kids, and my primary symptoms are upper-body, I don't have to completely give up church. But this is the one limitation that I really detest.

 

And the thing that bothers me most is knowing what people are thinking and saying about me. And there is a part of it that's not paranoia; it's what's already been said to me. Sometimes I get angry about it, but most of the time it just hurts. If I was really a grown-up, I wouldn't care about that. I'd take care of myself and concern myself only with what God thinks and wants. Sadly, I can't muster up than much maturity at the moment.

 

So, O Wise One, what do I do? Where can I take my brain for a tune-up? I remember after your brain surgery, you said that everybody should get their brain serviced when it reached the half-century mark. It certainly did wonders for you. Do you think Dr. Bingaman could fix me?

 

Maybe this is another chance for me to learn some humility. The Church teaches us to rejoice when we're misjudged because it is a remedy for pride. And I certainly need that. Comparing myself to other people is pointless, and for a fibromite it is self-destructive. All that matters is being obedient to God. See, my head knows these things! It's my heart that can't seem to catch up. I never was a heart person. But it's illogical to expect yourself to be logical all the time.

 

You've heard all of this a million times. Thank you for listening again. And feel free to give me any helpful advice. I'm grateful to have your prayers. Please ask the crowd there to pray for me, too, as I try to learn this hard lesson.

 

Love you with all my heart, and my hard, stubborn head,

Joan.