On this Labor Day weekend, 2015, what could be more uplifting to those of us suffering from pain than Bob Dylan’s “Shelter from the Storm”? So many are vacationing, doing their annual cleaning of their home and enjoying the company of loved ones. So many are not. I have blogged quite a bit about living Well as a Survivor of Fibromyalgia, but, I too have lived a life that has reared up with ugly and confusing mental health issues. I currently am addressing anxiety, depression, and general PTSD. Thanks in part to life and lessons not learned from my hands-off upbringing (the 1970’s were a time when children did their thing while liberal, flower child parents believed we would all come to our own spiritual, safe place by learning through experience) (sigh, huge backfires all over the land) and my rear-end accident in 2013. While I understand these issues firsthand, and academically, creating and implementing a Well Life plan for each of these is quite complicated some days. I am entirely grateful that my Angel Baby was raised during a time of my being Well. This blog is not my place to address living Well with issues other than chronic pain. In this instance, I felt a need, and duty, to add a bit more into the picture, after all, life is a narrow, winding road to the end. To sum this up, let us all remember those who hurt too much to summon up the energy to get out and party. Let us be honest with each other, educate those who are not living in our shoes and take a moment to shelter ourselves and others.
Lucinda Tart, Fibromyalgia Peer Advocate/Life Coach Advisor
Dear Lily June,
There are moments in my life that I’ve been under extreme emotional pressure. Crippled by anxiety and depression, I’ve longed for someone to, as Bob Dylan once sang, offer me “shelter from the storm.” In blogging your letters to the world of WordPress (I hope you don’t mind my sharing them), I’ve found an entire community of people who offer me that kind of shelter through solace, sympathy, empathy and encouragement.
I couldn’t be more grateful to the ones I’ve interacted with along the way, and I offer them, and you, up one of my favorite covers of the song I allude to as the only kind of gift I can afford to repay everyone with. Truly, to anyone reading (and none more than you yourself, Lily, if so you ever read these one day), please know I’m here. I’m listening. Mi shelter es su shelter.
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