mental health awareness + my fibro story

This year has been a wild one- A roller coaster of ups and downs, pushing, resisting, loving, crying, sleeping, and freaking blossoming. With mental health awareness being today, I find it appropriate to share a little bit more than usual.

If you takeaway anything from this, it’s that people are good at hiding their struggles and WILL hide until the absolute last second possible.

Just remember that. No one wants to admit their tired and feel like complete crapola. We’re supposed to be perfect af, right? 👻Be there, be supportive, ask how your friends, family, acquaintances are doing. Call them just because. Love them just because- and don’t doubt or question their mental state. I’d like to think most people would not make things up about what they’re going through, and if they are, even more reason to be there for them.

I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia this year. It was a long time coming for sure. Everything about growing up in pain makes so much sense. Wow, I’m getting a little teary eyed writing this. Living questioning if the pain is real or normal is kind of weird. Asking your mom to get massages because your back hurts when you’re 13 is kind of odd. Starting acupuncture when you’re 17 because your body hurts, even though you’re healthy, in shape, look great, your xrays and MRIs come back normal- yet feel like shit- prob isn’t normal, but it’s real.

I GOT USED TO FEELING CONSTANT PAIN IN MY BODY. It just was. And it’s how I thought I’d live the rest of my life. The pain moves around. One year it’ll be in the shoulders, one year the lower back, one year the hips, movin and groovin. It was constant. I’d cry and cry in my teens and twenties (still am in my twenties) because it just HURT. When I was stressed in college my body would be so tense I’d cry because my bod hurt. Poor little bod. Then I’d be so frustrated my body hurt that it would hurt more because I didn’t have answers. I just thought “damn I’m this stressed and anxious?” Looking back, yes, I was, and some of it was due to not understanding why I hurt.
I was on every sports team, did lots of yoga and pilates, ran, walked, ate well, and it was just life. I always thought “does everyone else’s body hurt? I swear this is a different kind of sore”. It was just a thing and it was fine.

Filling out the forms at PT, chiro, doctor, “Onset of injury” “how did it happen” “onset date” uhhhh forever? “No car accident? No fall? Wtf are you here then?” Cuz my bod hurt bro. Lol.

Fastforward to when I met my husband 3 years ago. He’d come to yoga with me and I’d go to the gym with him. We had a freaking blast. We got to know each other in the hot room moving our bodies and lifting weights and being sweaty together. It was awesome and raw.

We both shared how our bodies hurt from previous injuries and such, but we were both used to it. He’s really strong like Hercules so can lift really heavy weights so he tears things and I’m hyper mobile. Meh- that was that. Sometimes we’d say nice things to our bodies like, “I love you body. I love you shoulder. I love you back”. Ya’ll know we still do and we laugh every time. (Update- Mat is healing his body and feels tremendously better also! Yay 🙂 )

There’s a lot in between what happened during those years, such as my grandfathering dying who I was very very close with, getting married, working out, eating different diets to feel better (vegan for 2 years). Nothing made me feel better. Everything actually made me feel worse. I lost a bunch of weight. I called in sick for work, a lot. I felt like a zombie and my brain didn’t’ work. I was tiny at my wedding. I remember getting my makeup done in my parents bedroom and asking someone to bring me 3 ibuprofen because my body just effing hurt so bad. But- that was normal, I took ibuprofen on the reg baby.

Got married to the love of my VIDA!!! My dreams came true. Our wedding was off the chain and our honeymoon was amazing. Beach life holllaaaaaaa

Then, I was in bed alllllll that summer. ALL SUMMER. And if you know me, I’m a sun bunny and love doing yoga and being outside so the fact that I wasn’t outside and was in bed until 4pm most days was… weird af. Fast forward fast forward, did a little hot yoga here and there, did a little pilates here and there. Came home and cried here and there. Went on a few trips to hang out with Mat’s family on the East Coast. Was worried that his family thought I was a bit… slow or disengaged because my brain literally did not work and all I wanted to do was lay in bed on Thanksgiving day. And I did. And I felt effing terrible about it.


Woke up new years day 2018. Felt. Like. Shit. The drinking didn’t help. My New Years Resolution was to NOT WORK OUT for FOUR MONTHS so my body could heal, because “it was just tendonitis” that was giving me all my pain. Ok- cool. Let me rest so I can heal and get back to living my life. My mind was in a weird place because I do love working out. We went to Turkey to see my fam, I tried to play it cool, I was so tired. I blamed the jet lag. When you wanna hide something you can do a really good job. Trust me.

Got back from Turkey April 1st, then April 3rd I went to a slow flow yoga class. I felt great. I was like this is it. I’m back baby.

April 4th, I cried. I cried and cried and cried and layed in bed all day. I just couldn’t understand what was going on. WHY did I hurt? Me? I do freaking hot power baptiste yoga. Slow flow can’t hurt me… SIKE. I was dead to the freaking world.

I was like naaaaaaw this can’t be. Took my friend’s hot yoga class the week after. Not a good idea. She suggested I go to her chiropractor (thanks Ash). She told me I had scoliosis- voila! The answer to my struggles! Mmmm… not so fast. The treatment hurt and I eventually stopped going after a month.

That was the onset of being in bed for months. The only reason I’d get out of bed was because I knew Mat was coming home at 5pm and I didn’t want him to think I was lazy. So maybe I’d make some food, or shower, or go on a walk, then go right back to bed. It got to a point where I couldn’t hide it anymore. It was a mind eff, Excuse my FRENCH.


I went to


Endocrinologist. Who told me I had low thyroid and Hashimoto’s disease. My naturopath already told me that. Old news. The meds I took the year before gave me insomnia and didn’t give me more energy so that was also short lived.

Anyway, I was in so much pain I cried in his office. I literally cried. In his office. He gave me some amazing magical NSAID anti-inflammatory in the world. Holy shit. I had never felt better in my life. He told me I had to see the… RHEUMOTOLOGIST. OH NO.

BTW: During this time I couldn’t even walk a mile on the track without feeling like I was going to topple over. One or two laps around the track was a victory. This is effing weird because I am like one of the most active people you have ever met lol.

I should have seen the rheumatologist years ago. I was scared. I was so effing scared because arthritis runs in my family, on both sides. And Fibromyalgia on at least one. My aunts have mentioned since I was a young age that it sounds like I have it. I’ve been in denial. I think denial is a totally different post here. Anyway. That is the doctor I did not want to see but I knew he had my answer. Tests and tests and tests and tests and tests. Everything negative.

Dun dun dun. Fibromyalgia it is. Tears of joy and sadness.

And there it is. Let’s say about 15 years later I got my answer. The diagnosis is just the beginning. That was in June I think. It’s now October. I did physical therapy and it saved me. I have a wonderful spiritual coach who helps me. I don’t yet do yoga, because I don’t yet know my limits there (recently did a few photo shoots and felt OK after). I walk now, I take dance classes now, I’m starting pilates again next week, and gonna start doing some light kettle bell flows with Mat, too.

So much more I want to say. I know this doesn’t have much to do with mental health, but, I was in a weird and kinda dark place. I’m used to being a pop of sunshine and full of energy and all the fun things. I didn’t hang with my friends much, they prob just thought I was busy. It hurt physically so bad, was so frustrating, it turned mental.

The thing I can say I did EVERY SINGLE DAY while feeling like death in bed, was meditate and journal. AND instead of ibuprofen which can be bad for your liver I take magical CBD. Thank GOD!

I have a great support group and I’m surrounded by lots of love- INCLUDING THE LOVING THINGS I SAY TO MYSELF. Give your love and attention to those who need it. It will help them. Don’t be ashamed to ask for help. It’s hard and scary and makes you want to cringe sometimes. However it’s one of the first steps. A big shout out to my husband family friends acquaintances for da love. All the love. There’s enough love to go around. Because love makes love 🙂

Reminding myself it can always be worse, it is manageable, la vida is buena, and the universe or God or whatever your higher power( (if any) gives you only what you can manage and break through. I have done a complete 180 from even just 2 or 3 months ago.

Not saying everything’s perfect, but I’m over here learning about my body and mind and all other beautiful gifts

It’s all Gucci baby.

Thank you for reading


Kyla Rose Rocchi

*forgive any misspellings I’m on my phone

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