Understanding Resource Guarding

Resource Guarding in dogs

It was dinnertime and Izzy was doing her usual dinner dance. She spun and sat, eager for dinner, which is kibble plus some tasty wet food. Kyleth stood in the doorway, watching silently. I set their bowls down and let them be. Izzy devoured her meal in about three seconds, while Kyleth took her time. Izzy started doing the post-dinner potty dance, so I walked into the kitchen to open the door and let Izzy out, but stopped when I saw Kyleth.

As I approached, she put her head over the bowl, chin forward, with her serious eyes locked on me. Her large, dark eyes darted over to Izzy, who has never met a meal she didn’t like. Izzy was obviously thinking about grabbing 2nd dinner as Kyleth’s curly tail got a tighter curl. She was warning both of us, “Stay away from me and my food bowl, it’s mine!” She was guarding her bowl, and giving us a serious warning.

I turned my back to Kyleth and blocked Izzy from going towards her, encouraging her to go through the kitchen and into the backyard. After I moved out of the way, Kyleth began to eat again. The drama was over and we had a pleasant evening together, but I knew that I needed to address her resource guarding before it got worse.

Resource guarding is normal.

Resource guarding can be scary, and it’s a common reason dogs bite people. They see a threat to something they think is theirs and they respond in a way to protect it from others. It’s also pretty normal to value something and get angry when it's taken away. After all, if I snatch your cellphone from your hands, you’re going to be (justifiably) angry and respond to my rudeness. Dogs are no different.

Dogs have many ways to communicate with us and other dogs, and it’s important to let them express discomfort and anger in ways that get their point across without violence. This is why it’s important to not punish your dog when they growl or snarl, because it’s much safer to have lots of ways to warn you before they bite. Guarding can feel unsafe, and sometimes dogs get scary protecting what’s theirs. This is why it’s important to have a multi-pronged approach to dealing with it to keep us and other members of our household safe. Prevention is as important as training! 

What does resource guarding look like?

Resource guarding can be very obvious, like a snarling and growling. In this photo, it’s pretty obvious that the dog wants us to go away from them. The flash from the camera is giving her spooky red eyes, but it makes it easy to see her pupils are pretty large. Given the context, this is a sign that she’s pretty scared. You can also see a smidge of white in the corner of her right eye, which means she’s not staring directly at the camera. She’s either warning a specific person or animal nearby or she’s not in the mood to fight. . Her ears are forward, body is stiff, and her mouth is far forward with the corners slightly behind her canines.  Most of us know to stay away from this dog. This dog is close to biting, so it’s best to leave them alone.

Here, this shiba is telling the shepherd to back off from the bone in front of them.  Even though both dogs are fairly relaxed and lying down, the shiba is snarling a little, even though they’re not looking directly at the puppy. You can see lots of harsh shadows on the shiba’s face, showing off how tense they are. I often look for this to gauge their stress. This is a sign of discomfort. In this case, it’s probably because of the puppy. The shiba isn’t making direct eye contact, which means they’re not quite ready to escalate, but it’s not off the table yet. This behavior is a way to express what they’re feeling without having to get into a fight, even though they’re angry. The puppy has a closed mouth, pricked ears, and what appears to be a slight paw lift with their right front paw. The puppy is signaling that they don’t want any drama, and is trying to de-escalate the situation.

If the object they want to keep is larger than them, dogs will also sit, stand, or lie down beside or in front of what they hold dear, known as body blocking. If your dog is guarding you, you may also feel them lean heavily on you, or place their butt on you, essentially putting their stank on you to mark you as theirs.  This mixed breed dog has hard eyes, ears pointed forward, significant facial tension, and a slight paw lift with their right paw.  If you look closely, you’ll see that the inner corner of their brows is higher than the outer corner, giving them a worried expression. The person may be holding this dog back from lunging, which only adds to their stress.

What do I do if my dog is resource guarding?

First, stop doing whatever you’re doing. 

Then, it’s time to make some decisions. Are they guarding something that’s rightfully theirs, like a meal, or is it something that can be potentially dangerous or valuable to you, like a shoe? 

• If it’s supposed to be theirs, back off and let them be. Your dog will remember that you listen to a warning and will keep warning you and others in the household instead of escalating their behavior. Kyleth still tells me not to take her bowl if there’s food in it, and I listen. 

• If it’s not supposed to be theirs, offer a trade.

But most importantly, do not punish them for guarding! It will only teach your dog that they were right to be anxious and their behavior will escalate. Dogs aren’t dumb, and they will remember that you plus the remote equals a bad time for them, and may feel the need to protect themselves.

Next, look at the environment. What can you change in order to prevent guarding in the first place? Maybe the dogs need more space in between their bowls. Yes, it’s a pain to have to feed separately, but it’s cheaper than a vet bill! High value treats and toys should only be given when you can supervise. Prevent others from getting the high value item that belongs to your dog by giving them space to enjoy it without being harassed. For objects that they shouldn’t have, make sure that they are out of your dog’s reach. I know it's easier said than done, especially if you aren’t the only member in your household and/or live in utter chaos, but the only way to prevent a puppy from chewing on shoes is to make sure they never have access to them in the first place. 

Trade games are a safety must

Since guarding is a normal behavior, we want to teach our dogs to give up items willingly to us. Teaching your dog to trade one item for another helps them realize that you taking something away isn't a big deal. There’s a secret to this, though: the item they get in exchange needs to be a good one. Izzy might be willing to trade a toy for some kibble, but if I try that with a bully stick, she has no problem telling me where I can shove that kibble. Be prepared to up the awesomeness ante if they ignore your first offer.

Give them the new thing at their side so that they have to turn away from the object they’re guarding. For most dogs, you’ll have a second or two where you can move the thing they shouldn’t have away from them. 

I’m not a big fan of taking a dog’s food bowl away if they guard it. Instead, I like to stop by with something extra tasty, like a piece of chicken or turkey, dropping it in or beside their bowl, and then walking away. I want my presence to be something they associate with good stuff, not anxiety. 

Training cues for guarding

There are two cues that I use when a dog is guarding: “Drop It” for objects in my dog’s mouth, and “Leave It” for everything else. Both are based on trade games because you will be offering them something nicer (to them) for the thing they already have. 

Start training this with low-value items instead of high-value items, but if you have specific things you want them to leave alone, bring those into your training sessions once they’ve had a little practice. For purses, shoes, bags, and remotes, I like to reward anything they’re doing that’s not messing with the item so that they really understand it’s better (and more profitable!) to leave it alone. 

“Leave It” is only half a sentence. What should they do after they’ve left the object alone? Most of the time, my answer is to move away from it, so I toss their reward away from them to give me time to pick up whatever Kyleth  has managed to get her adorable little teeth on. It’s much easier to pick up whatever Kyleth is guarding if she’s several feet away. 

As always, if you are not sure how to train a cue or you have concerns for the safety of yourself or anyone in your household, seek help from a professional trainer. 

Although guarding is a perfectly normal behavior in dogs, by learning the subtle ways your dog communicates with you, you can address the issue appropriately by giving them space and teaching them that both leaving things alone and giving things to you mean good things for them. This will keep everyone in your household safer, and your dog more confident that they will be heard and respected. 

Looking Back at my Hysterectomy when I was 24 years old

 Mother’s Day is a haunting reminder of my endometriosis and hysterectomy at 24. On a day when I want to show love to all of the wonderful moms in my life, I find myself isolated and alone because flowers and a “Mom” balloon send me into a tailspin of selfish grief. It’s easier now that I’m in my forties and it’s a distant memory, but some years are harder than others, even after all this time. 

I knew I had an aunt and great-aunt who had hysterectomies in their twenties, although I never knew why until the family curse fell onto me. There were warning signs before the end, but in a story too familiar to anyone with the disease, they were ignored and I was told to put them out of my mind.

One day I suddenly realized that I hadn’t had a period for over six months. I was 15 and not sexually active, so I didn’t think much of it until it stretched out to nine months when I finally made an appointment with a doctor. After an awkward but professional pelvic exam, he said I was perfectly normal and girls can be irregular shortly after puberty, and it will fix itself after a while.

It didn’t. 

I was plagued by irregular periods and pain in the days leading up to it and for the first few days as my cycle began. The pain started to get worse the longer I went without a period, but I didn’t think much of it because so many of my friends had similar complaints. As it turns out, my survival strategy of instinctively finding neurodivergent friends meant many of them had similar issues. Neurodivergent people seem to be more prone to several chronic conditions, including endometriosis. Then one day, the pain became constant and I was months away from a life-altering surgery. 

Endometriosis is a chronic disease with a strong genetic component, characterized by the lining of the uterus, or endometrium, found outside the uterine environment and in other areas of the body, typically the pelvis and abdomen. It affects about 6.5 million people in the US, or approximately 10% of the population. Pain is its most common symptom, along with infertility in nearly half of sufferers. About 12% will require a hysterectomy in order to alleviate symptoms. 

It can take many frustrating years to get an endometriosis diagnosis. The average person experiences symptoms for 7-10 years before getting surgical confirmation. We’re told, “You can’t  can’t really be in that much agony; some discomfort is normal.” Whether it’s intended or not, there is an unspoken message: “Stop being such a drama queen and suck it up.” Pain is a tricky thing: everyone’s tolerance is different, and those who live in constant pain often don’t look as if they’re in as much pain as they truly are. This leads to doctors not believing our symptoms or stories, or trying less effective treatments because we aren’t as distressed as they think we should be. This delay leads to more adhesions, unnecessary pain, and loss of fertility as the disease progresses.

Although most people with chronic illnesses have at least one doctor horror story, this is more of an exception than the rule in my life. My own gynecologist throughout this was a wonderful doctor, and I’m grateful for him. Most of the doctors I’ve known have been kind and compassionate people who dedicate their lives to ease the suffering of others. They are also frustrated with how insurance companies hinder treatments with red tape and denials. 

The diagnosis is confirmed with a laparoscopic surgery to see the adhesions within the abdominal cavity. My first surgery was scheduled pretty quickly, where my diagnosis was confirmed, along with a damaged ovary glued to my uterus, the probable cause of my irregular periods. They lasered the adhesions they could find, closed me up, and set me on my way to recovery. The procedure was quick with minimal restrictions for a week or so, and finally having a name for my pain was a relief. At last, I learned that this disease is what led to my aunt’s hysterectomy by the time she was 27. I suspected I had a similar fate awaiting me, but both my doctor and I were determined to find a solution that would allow me to keep my fertility, such as it was.

We discussed my options: hormonal birth control, GnRH medications like Lupron to mimic menopause, and the potential for more laparoscopic surgeries to remove more adhesions. 

Fortunately, there are a few newer medications on the market, particularly GnRH drugs that have fewer side effects than Lupron.  Emerging therapies targeting inflammation, new surgical techniques, nerve growth, or even the microbiome are also on the horizon.

It seemed sensible to me to start off with birth control pills, as it works for many people with endometriosis, due to a suspected link with progesterone resistance. Each brand is slightly different, so I set in for the long haul of trying different brands until we found one that worked.

Armed with my new birth control and vicodin prescription (this was before the opioid epidemic took hold of the country), we started looking for that magical cocktail that would bring my life back to me. By this time, the pain was constant and horrific. My life began to shrink as I stopped going out with friends, afraid of a sudden attack of more severe than usual pain. Going to classes and work became difficult, especially standing in my sculpture class when all I wanted to do was double over and cry. I found some relief with heat patches during the day and heating pads at night, but it would only take some of the edge off. We kept trying different brands to see what would work, but nothing seemed to really work, and a few seemed to make things worse. Finding the right cocktail of drugs to treat endometriosis can take some time to figure out, so I accepted that this was part of the process. We added antidepressants to the mix to help with the emotional aspect of dealing with this disease and I white-knuckled my way through the days.

I was still in pain as the agony turned from weeks into months. Sleep was a relief. It became easier to forget when I was asleep, only to wake up to the angry ball of pain in my abdomen and thought “Oh, God. Here we go again.” I took vicodin as prescribed, although it didn’t do more than take a little of the edge off. We were only beginning to find out how dangerous this could be, and while I was grateful for something more effective than Tylenol, I was not happy going through withdrawal in the hospital after my surgery.

I had a negative reaction to a progesterone only birth control pill, and I was leery of the depo-provera shot. This was before the lawsuit, when the treatment was relatively new to the market. Instead, we tried Lupron after another failed laparoscopic surgery to remove more adhesions. No change. I was still in pain, so as a last ditch effort and a final hoop to appease the insurance company, we tried the depo shot. 

It didn’t work, but at this point, it wasn’t a surprise. My doctor and I both knew where this was headed. 

Midterms had just ended and I had gone in for my monthly excruciating pelvic exam and consult. I sat in his office, and we looked at what treatments we had left. I was exhausted, heartsick, and desperate for relief, knowing what was about to happen. 

“I don’t want to do this,” he said to me, his face full of sadness and resignation.

“Neither do I,” I replied as we scheduled my surgery in early December, days after my finals ended. I was 24.

One of the scariest things I have ever done was walk into a hospital. I knew I needed surgery, but I hated it. I felt as if my body betrayed me, and this was my last and final effort to gain some control over my life and go back to some semblance of normal. I signed the papers, changed into a gown, and waited for a surgery that would change my life. I could only hope that this last drastic move would finally give me the relief I so desperately needed. 

As it turned out, major abdominal surgery hurt less than my daily pain. I surprised the nurses after I stopped taking morphine about 24 hours after surgery because I didn’t feel I needed it, even though it hurt. For the first time, the constant burning agony blooming across my left side and throughout my abdomen was gone. It was a relief I never dared to imagine. But it came at a heavy cost.

Many people have children in their mid-twenties, and my friends were no exception. While I struggled to accept the fact that I would never be able to have my own, those around me began their own exciting journeys as parents. The first one was born a little over a month after my surgery. My family welcomed my niece just six months later. At a time in my life when most of my peers were worried about finding love and starting families, I was trying to survive, not knowing about the brutal fallout from years of trauma from this and other life events that was about to hit. I felt as if I was on the outside looking in, isolated and alone with no one who really understood what it was like. I looked for others like me online, but found little meaningful support. My aunt understood like no other, but it was hard to put into words and we both struggled to process our experiences and the other traumatic events surrounding our hysterectomies. To this day I can’t watch anything related to pregnancy, birth, and babies in general, but it’s easier now than it was. 

I consider myself lucky. I didn’t have a doctor demanding I keep suffering because I was too young. He never insisted I delay surgery just in case I wanted to get pregnant and have a child. I didn’t have to get permission from my non-existent husband. I didn’t have to wait years from the onset of my first severe symptom to diagnosis and treatment. I have a loving, supportive family who were able to help me every step of the way. The insurance company fought a little, but there was relatively little drama from that. I was fortunate that it was covered by insurance. I am so grateful for my doctor, who was so kind and more importantly, believed me when I said I was in pain. 

For others, their story isn’t as straightforward. It’s important to advocate for yourself. You know your body and when something isn’t right. Tracking symptoms can be very useful for helping your medical team find the right diagnosis, and helping to manage symptoms and side effects. I prefer something along the lines of a bullet journal spread because it lets me spot patterns more easily, but apps or a spreadsheet are equally useful. Carving out time and space for this as part of a daily self-care ritual has made enormous changes in my quality of life.  

I don’t regret my hysterectomy. It was the only thing that actually helped me. My life now would be impossible without it. Yes, I paid a heavy price, but it was worth it to be free from the constant agony those two years brought me. The experience leading up to it left me with some heavy scars, but one worth it in the end.

A Realistic Guide to Managing Fibromyalgia Symptoms

 Fibromyalgia is an insidious disease. The constant pain and fatigue are overbearing reminders of your limitations, and learning to live with debilitating pain and fatigue is an isolating, frustrating experience. Finding a good treatment plan can take a while. Meds help, but they never seem to be enough on their own. As we learn to live with this disease and its comorbid conditions, it becomes increasingly clear that in order to have the best quality of life possible, we need a multi-pronged approach to regain some of what we’ve lost to it.

Fibromyalgia, often referred to as fibro, is a chronic disease characterized by widespread pain throughout the body along with fatigue and brain fog. It’s unknown what causes the disease, although there appear to be some genetic, environmental, immunological, factors at play, along with how one experiences other chronic conditions. Unfortunately, there is no cure for it, and treatments revolve around symptom management.

Everyone experiences their symptoms differently. Some are plagued by pain and fatigue while others are able to be a little more active and suffer more with constant, low-grade pain and fatigue. Some may be bed-bound by symptoms while most others are able to get a few things done before they crash. We see the same solutions brought up again and again, but when you’re barely able to move without wanting to cry or curse, how do you do it?  How do you keep up the good habits you’re trying to build?

Tracking Symptoms

Getting in the habit of tracking symptoms has been one of the most influential parts to managing my fibromyalgia. As I learn how my mood, sleep, activity, and stress impact me, I can find patterns and make changes to prevent flares. I can see how long they are and what I can do to improve them. This also gives my medical team data on my day to day life instead of the snapshot they get of me when I’m in the office. This leads to better symptom management overall, which improves the number of good days I have.

If you search online for fibro trackers, you will find a myriad of examples, from apps like Manage My Pain to workbooks like physical journals like Fibromyalgia Warrior and bullet journal templates or even downloadable spreadsheets or .pdf files. Which one you use doesn’t matter, so long as it’s one you like. I’m a big fan of making my own because I can tailor it to my unique symptoms. I can zero in on what gives me the most trouble and order it in a way that flows nicely.

I’ve found that more complex trackers that take several minutes to fill out are tedious and end up being half finished. The Completionist Police aren’t going to stop by and check your work, so it’s not a big deal. I feel anxious and ashamed when I look at half finished work, so I prefer to have something that I am confident I can fill out quickly on my worst days. It means I’ve got less data overall, and depending on where you are in your journey and symptom management struggles, it can be very useful to have half finished but more thorough daily notes on your symptoms. 

How often should you track your symptoms?

It’s a good idea to track them daily, although if you can have large swings from the time you wake up to the time you go to bed, multiple times a day can help find patterns that make your pain worse during the day. I track symptoms with my daily journal practice, which helps to center me, give space for my worries, or to simply organize my thoughts and cement my goals for the day. 

Exercise

It seems like a fever dream when you’re in the midst of a months-long flare, but the science is pretty clear: exercise improves overall pain and fatigue in those with fibromyalgia. Exercise has many benefits that can help. It boosts our mood to alleviate some symptoms of depression and anxiety, which in our case, leads to pain. As we gain muscle and flexibility, it also improves our overall pain. 

But if you’ve been in the middle of a flare that has been going on for months, the thought of walking to the mailbox is miserable. A quick walk around the block sounds about as much fun as walking barefoot on broken glass (although that might be less painful given the current situation). Many of the studies bear this out as well. There is usually a high percentage of participants who have to drop out because they’re in too much pain to continue. Despite this, finding ways to move more throughout my day has helped manage my daily symptoms, even though I still get nasty flares. 

Walking is my main exercise. It’s challenging to find that fine line between enough and too much, so it’s best to start off with very modest goals. Low and slow seems to work out best for us, and small wins will help motivate you as you work towards bigger goals, like an overall reduction in pain and hanging out with friends once a month. Forget the “shoulds”, be realistic with your current activity level and set your goals from there. 10,000 steps is usually seen as optimal, but once I’ve achieved that, I’m in such agony I can’t walk without assistance. My daily step goal is 5,000 steps, which is a half-mile walk twice a day with my dogs and the odds and ends of daily life and just on the border of how much I can tolerate without making my pain worse. Whatever your movement goal looks like, set it to something embarrassingly simple. Easy goals help jump start that feeling of accomplishment, making larger goals breeze by. I break down my 5,000 step goal into smaller 1,000 step chunks so that I can celebrate even the smallest win on bad days. If I can barely move but manage to get 1,000 steps, I celebrate. If I’m having a great day and manage to get in 6,000, that’s a big win! This helps to keep me motivated and feel less bad when I don’t hit my daily step count or have to work back up to it after an ugly flare. 

Smartwatches make this pretty easy to track, and they’ve been a game-changer for managing symptoms and for movement accountability. If that’s not your vibe, pedometers, whether they be the simple wearable kind or an app on your phone are also useful to help track your daily movement to help you dial in your goals. 

Yoga or tai chi is a great option for exercise, as they are generally low-impact and yoga’s stretching helps to loosen up tight muscles without being so intense it leaves you in too much pain to function the next day. On bad flare days, this might just be gently stretching out an achy joint or twelve or even chair yoga for five minutes. 

I have also had some success preventing flares with personal trainers, although it can be hard to find a good one who understands chronic illness and the ups and downs that accompany it. Working one-on-one allows for a more tailored experience over going to classes that are tailored to the mean. They can also help you dial in to specific goals, whether that is being able to get up off the floor, improving flexibility, cardiovascular health, or weight bearing exercises so that you don’t experience pain when you pick up a milk jug. A personal trainer keeps you accountable and can also help you learn how to stay active while taking it easy so that you don’t lose as much after a flare. 

But most importantly, honor your pain. Move on the days you can, rest on the days you can’t. Increase activity slowly after a flare, paying attention to fatigue and pain and use that to guide you as to how much is enough for each day. 

Diet

Several studies show that certain diets and weight loss for overweight individuals help overall symptoms of fibromyalgia. This is easier said than done, especially since the diets recommended include lots of whole fruits and vegetables with minimal processed food. This means they will have to be prepared by someone, and whether you’re single and living alone, have no kitchen, or the only one in the household who cooks, it’s not always possible to cook at home. 

Meal delivery services that send you a week’s worth of microwavable meals can be a godsend, and most have options that cater to a specific diet, like low FODMAP, Mediterranean, Anti-Inflammatory, Plant Based/Vegetarian, Vegan and Gluten-free. There won’t be as many choices, but heat-and-eat simplicity makes eating healthier easier. The same goes for food in the frozen aisle as well. Choosing pre-made, sensible meals can be difficult, and apps like FIG or even your favorite grocery store app filtered to select foods for specific diets can help make choosing foods you’re able to prepare easier.

In the end, “fed is best” applies to us, too. Some weeks are easier than others. If it means you’re eating whatever’s handy or getting drive-thru, taking care of ourselves is the most important thing. Remember to go back to the diet that works for you once you’re past the worst of it. After a couple of decades of dealing with fibro, I’m familiar enough with my unique symptoms that I can gauge whether or not it’s a good week for cooking, or if I’m going to be a frozen food diva, or even let someone else cook for me. Honoring our bodies by paying attention to our pain and fatigue and adjusting what we can or can’t do is the best way to prevent long flares. 

Sleep

One of the insidious parts of fibro is how it affects sleep. Trying to find a comfortable position when everything hurts is nearly impossible and constantly tossing and turning keeps you from getting deep, restful sleep. This leads to more fatigue, brain fog, and then there’s the inevitable pain! It’s a vicious cycle. Unfortunately, like most chronic illnesses, finding the right solution can take some time. 

My smartwatch comes in handy here because of its built in sleep tracker. It’s not 100% accurate, but I can see what my general patterns look like (lots of light sleep and very little deep sleep) and see what can be done to help that. Meds help, but I don’t relish the thought of relying on them long-term. I use them as temporary help when needed. 

To help combat my squirrel brain keeping me up all night (thanks, ADHD), I like to use sleep masks to keep my environment pitch black. I’ve found that adjustable ones with velcro in the back are best in terms of being able to adjust to whatever my face will tolerate at the time while still being snug enough to block out most, if not all, light. My favorite sleep mask used to have headphones in them, and I find the large velcro and wide mask keep out most of the light and last for years. 

I listen to sleep stories and books read by narrators with a calm, soothing voice with minimal voice acting. These help me fall asleep quickly. I use sleep earbuds so that others aren’t disturbed by my sleep habits, but they are, admittedly, uncomfortable come morning. Smart speakers are wonderful for this, if it doesn’t disturb anyone else. Others like to listen to music, or play a favorite movie in order to fall asleep and stay asleep longer. Some prefer to sleep alone, and it’s a great way to make sure your sleep is uninterrupted by anyone but you. Maybe you need the white noise from a fan or white noise machine to drown out small noises in your environment, or earplugs that diminish all sounds are a better choice for you. Make small changes and see what sticks. 

Other sleep hygiene habits like going to bed at around the same time, and avoiding caffeine after a certain time can also help you get better sleep. It’s worthwhile to try different things to see what you like and don’t, in order to get the best sleep you can. It’ll never be perfect, but better sleep leads to less pain and fatigue.

Meditation

I know, it’s a suggestion that makes my right eye twitch. If the answer was as simple as meditation, we’d all be doing it. It’s hard to do and while it may provide some temporary pain relief, it doesn’t last long. I can’t spend my entire day sitting in the lotus position huffing patchouli incense while intoning “om” or some such nonsense. I’ve got bills to pay. But I do meditate, especially when I’m in the middle of a flare.

Mindfulness meditation is a technique where you simply notice your internal and external environment without putting any labels on what you’re experiencing. This helps with chronic pain because it manages the distress that comes along with it. This, in one way or another, is a daily practice of mine to help accept what I cannot change: the fibro. I notice my overall pain and move on… most of the time. It improved the overall quality of my life because I learned how to stop focusing on my pain and get on with what I needed to. It’s been an important, but difficult life lesson. 

Meditating during a flare is a herculean task, and frankly, I’d rather battle a lion. But when I’m overwhelmed with pain, this is still one of my go-tos to help release the anxiety I feel when I’m at my wits end. I like to do this lying down as it’s the most comfortable, and I usually practice before bed so that I can drift off to sleep at any point. There are tons of guided meditations online for free, and I usually hop on Youtube to choose one made for sleep, since its focus is on relaxation instead of noticing what hurts. You don’t have to follow all of it. I do not like body scan meditations since the pain moves to whatever body part I’m noticing, so I stick to simply observing. No one will know, I promise!

Coming to terms with having an incurable chronic condition and learning how to manage symptoms isn’t easy. It took years before I was able to find techniques that helped me have a better life. It’s not what I imagined, and it’s overwhelming and incredibly sad to think of everything I’ve lost, but it’s mine. We can make the best of what we’ve been handed one day at a time.