I was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia, a chronic pain and fatigue condition 8 years ago and since then have honed a fashion and beauty regime which involves minimum effort to look at least presentable if not exactly cat-walk ready.
I thought I'd share my top tips with you- most of them are equally applicable for anyone with any form of Chronic Fatigue syndrome, or even a two month old baby!
So what's in my bag of tricks?
Dry shampoo. A relatively recent discovery for me. Well, I remember it back in the 70's and 80's when it left your hair thickly coated with nasty smelling powder which made your scalp itch. I've found the modern versions much lighter and much more efficient and a life-saver on those days when the thought of bending over the bath or stepping into the shower is akin to climbing Everest in flip-flops.
Self-tan lotion and/or Bronzing powder. Due to poor sleep quality and pain-related sleep deprivation during a flare-up I end up looking like a zombie on a bad day. Even the act of brushing on some colour makes me feel better, even if it actually just makes me look like a zombie wearing blusher.
Nail polish. I have lovely, lovely friends and when I am feeling particularly bad and am housebound they will often come round with their nail polishes and we will spend a happy hour or two doing nails. Well, they do theirs and mine because I am not safe to hold a loaded polish brush during a flare-up unless the carpet, cat and anything else in a 6 metre radius is covered up...
It's more an excuse to invite people round as a distraction from the misery.
Slip on shoes. Flipflops, clogs, slides, mules, anything you can slip your feet into without bending down, using your hands or thinking about laces which my fibro hands can't cope with.
Slip on clothes. Thank goodness for the return of leggings. Admittedly they don't suit, well most people, but with a cute slip-on tunic or cosy woolly jumper or oversized T I feel like I've got dressed when I can't get dressed. Although I am well known for wearing PJs as outerwear.
I generally can't cope with buttons or zips or fiddly fasteners on bad days - jersey dresses, elasticated waistbands and soft fabrics are best on sensitive fibro skin.
A Brave Face. This really works for me more often than not. OK not so much in the privacy of my own home where I will sob in frustration at the pain and effort of just getting to the toilet to have a wee. And I can tell from the wary looks on the faces of my nearest and dearest that maybe I'm a tad snappier than normal when I want to change my name from Mummy and hide in my bed.
But out and about like most people with an invisible illness I will plaster on a smile for the general public and to the throwaway question: "Hi, How are you?" I will answer "I'm fine!"
And I've found if I tell myself often enough that I can do it, I can survive this stupid, pointless, baffling condition without becoming completely housebound or helpless then "I'm fine" becomes the truth. It's not as good as "I'm great", "I'm good" or "I'm fit as a fiddle" but some days with the help of leggings, blusher and my slip-on outfit, "fine" is OK.
If you suffer from any invisible illness and would like somewhere to chat without feeling judged with people who understand some of your problems then why not join the Tired & Exhausted Facebook Group .
Occasionally when I'm having a good spell I even run a linky for you to share your stories, tips and experiences with the medical profession and other people! Let me know If you have a oat you'd like to share.
 |
| The best thing about blogging - can be done at home in pyjamas -as long as hands are OK! |
So what's in my bag of tricks?
Dry shampoo. A relatively recent discovery for me. Well, I remember it back in the 70's and 80's when it left your hair thickly coated with nasty smelling powder which made your scalp itch. I've found the modern versions much lighter and much more efficient and a life-saver on those days when the thought of bending over the bath or stepping into the shower is akin to climbing Everest in flip-flops.
Self-tan lotion and/or Bronzing powder. Due to poor sleep quality and pain-related sleep deprivation during a flare-up I end up looking like a zombie on a bad day. Even the act of brushing on some colour makes me feel better, even if it actually just makes me look like a zombie wearing blusher.
Nail polish. I have lovely, lovely friends and when I am feeling particularly bad and am housebound they will often come round with their nail polishes and we will spend a happy hour or two doing nails. Well, they do theirs and mine because I am not safe to hold a loaded polish brush during a flare-up unless the carpet, cat and anything else in a 6 metre radius is covered up...
It's more an excuse to invite people round as a distraction from the misery.
 |
| I'm fine! at a friend's during a flare-up which made clothes too painful to wear! |
Slip on clothes. Thank goodness for the return of leggings. Admittedly they don't suit, well most people, but with a cute slip-on tunic or cosy woolly jumper or oversized T I feel like I've got dressed when I can't get dressed. Although I am well known for wearing PJs as outerwear.
I generally can't cope with buttons or zips or fiddly fasteners on bad days - jersey dresses, elasticated waistbands and soft fabrics are best on sensitive fibro skin.
A Brave Face. This really works for me more often than not. OK not so much in the privacy of my own home where I will sob in frustration at the pain and effort of just getting to the toilet to have a wee. And I can tell from the wary looks on the faces of my nearest and dearest that maybe I'm a tad snappier than normal when I want to change my name from Mummy and hide in my bed.
But out and about like most people with an invisible illness I will plaster on a smile for the general public and to the throwaway question: "Hi, How are you?" I will answer "I'm fine!"
And I've found if I tell myself often enough that I can do it, I can survive this stupid, pointless, baffling condition without becoming completely housebound or helpless then "I'm fine" becomes the truth. It's not as good as "I'm great", "I'm good" or "I'm fit as a fiddle" but some days with the help of leggings, blusher and my slip-on outfit, "fine" is OK.
Occasionally when I'm having a good spell I even run a linky for you to share your stories, tips and experiences with the medical profession and other people! Let me know If you have a oat you'd like to share.