Fibromyalgia. Inconsolable Isolation

Fibromyalgia. Inconsolable Isolation(Annie Frame) Fibromyalgia.....Inconsolable Isolation.
Beryl found a bench in the park and gratefully sank her bones into it. She’d forced herself to leave the house and move her aching limbs, if only for a short while. The birds sang loudly flying here and there so she remained engrossed for quite a long time. Well, until company arrived. A young decent looking chap sat down beside her and groaned gratefully as his butt hit the slats. It was a groan Beryl readily understood so she turned, smiled and wondered if he was in the same boat. Although he was much younger than her sixty years and should have been much more active than he was, she didn’t doubt the need for interaction. Normally she wouldn’t have dreamt of chatting to a dishy looking youth, but the need to speak overwhelmed her. “Good morning.” She chirped brightly, feeling a complete farce and waited for a response which came after quite a pause, “I wish it was.” Unsure what to say next she held her breath contemplating on letting sleeping dogs lie. He had other ideas and mumbled, “I was diagnosed yesterday, after years of telling them I was in constant pain.” The young stranger continued to share his internal reflections with her, while she struggled to accommodate the depth of emotion. His head bowed as the word left him and immediately a rush of empathy filled Beryl. “Fibromyalgia.” He whispered hoarsely. She tried to straighten her stature but pain wouldn’t let her. Sheer determination allowed her to share all she knew about the inconsolable isolation fibromyalgia brought. For years she’d battled with its relentless nature, and often felt completely lost in the wilderness presented, yet the words that left her mouth and reached the young man were more positive than negative. She told him all about her battle and how she’d lost many a friend for not being the life and soul of the party, but what’s a party in the grand scheme of things? She shared the past and helped create his future. She told him how those who hadn’t understood or cared left her life and made way for the more genuine. Eventually after saying lots of things she met his gaze and shared inner pain and anguish, “You can survive this and through it you will grow despite the shadow it casts on a daily basis.” She didn’t know if her words had meant a lot, a little or nothing at all, because all he offered was a “thank you.” As he got up and left her side. She watched him trail his feet as he sank into the distance and recognised the cruel sadistic journey ahead. She’d been unable to tell him the reality of the future and how difficult each day would be, because each and every hour was a milestone for the mere mortal to endure. After the count of three she forced her aching abode to enlighten and continue her own personal battle with the invisible entity called fibromyalgia.