Having patience with yourself

  

Lately, I have realised that one of the reasons for my high blood pressure is probably in the way I stress about not being able to do what I want due to fibromyalgia.

Although I know that I am not to blame for being ill, I sometimes find myself berating myself and feeling cross that I am a lame duck. It really gets to me at times.

Often I succumb to false guilt, the guilt that comes from matters that are not in my control, and it is easy to go to the Pit of Despair. You do not want to go there.

On rare occasions, I burst into tears and it is then that Chris usually comes to my rescue, pointing out that it's not my fault, that whatever needs to be done can wait or he promises that he will do it...

It made me think that sometimes I am my own worst enemy. By self-condemnation, I am making a sad situation worse for myself.

When I realised that it was my thinking that makes me get so down sometimes, I smiled at the irony: usually I am trying to validate my tiredness and pain to "normals"- those who do not live with chronic pain and no spoons. Now the "normals" are validating me.

So today, after cleaning my kitchen and making lunch, I am going to "the beach" again. I am going to relax and only get up again when it is time to cook tea.

I am going to start to speak to myself as I would speak to someone else who was ill and blaming themselves: lovingly and kindly. Which just doesn't come naturally to me. I have patience with everyone except myself.

Pain is a disability

Anyone who suffers from chronic pain knows that it precludes us from a lot of enjoyment of life. Pain makes the vicissitudes of life that much harder to bear. 

Everything is exaggerated both physically and mentally, and the only thing I can do is accept that this is not my usual self, for pain changes people.

Pain disables us in many ways. from physical activity. from family life. from sex. from sleep. from patience. from social life. from functioning normally. from life generally.

The effects of pain cause us to withdraw from people and become reclusive. It makes us feel isolated and unable to really feel understood or validated. We learn to be distrustful of others.

Because chronic pain, in my case fibromyalgia, causes us so much mental as well as physical angst, we decide to retreat to our home often preferring it even if we had enough spoons to leave.

Seeing as pain is such a disabling affliction, it makes no sense to me that we are often regarded by doctors with suspicion when we request heavy duty pain relief such as opiates.

Most of us cannot get enough medication to adequately help us with our pain. We often then succumb to depression and live as recluses  due to agoraphobia. 

We who suffer from chronic pain know that it is a disability. Invisible and destructive. We live in the knowledge that pain is disabling. 

We just wish doctors were as aware of the ongoing relentless disability called Pain.

Chipping away at the stone

So my fibromyalgia is back with a passion, making every muscle ache. I tried to take a bath a couple of days ago and I had great difficulty getting out. I had to use a pillow under my knee and I had no other option than to lean on it to get up. It was so painful and the consequences are enormous.

I know I shouldn't have tried with both knees with torn menisci and other ligament damage.  I was in so much pain that I longed for a bath to hopefully relax my muscles. It didn't. Nor did it help my sore neck with another episode of polymyalgia rheumatica.

This constant pain is wearing me down. My doctor is too afraid to give me pain relief and I am considering changing doctors. This creates anxiety in me. And to top it all off, I have been cranky and not really a nice person to be near at the moment.

With Chris ill himself, I seem to be carrying everything myself with no help in sight. Take this morning for example. I put on a load of washing, cleaned Xena's litter tray and unloaded and loaded the dishwasher.

Testing our blood sugar level before breakfast,  I asked Chris what he wanted for breakfast. He told me what he wanted, just sitting there waiting for me to get it for him. I am sorry to report that I arced up and told him to get it himself.

I added some other truths about him acting like he's the only one with pain and that I am tired of being his servant when all he does is watch TV and sleep all day. You gotta understand, that usually this isn't an issue, but the pain has truly worn me down.

Chris asked me what I had done so far this morning. I told him and he replied that it isn't necessary to push myself like I am doing. Push myself? Doing minimum household chores?

I told him I was just trying to live a normal life and he replied, "But you aren't normal! You have got to realise that and accept it!" But in fact, what I do is pared down to the bone housekeeping compared to what it was even 10 years ago. How much less can I do and still manage to live a relatively clean and organised life? Single handedly.

Over the 23 years of having fibromyalgia I have had a determination like stone. I would not let fibromyalgia or indeed any of my other painful conditions control my life. And for the most part it hasn't. Until today. It's chipping away at the stone.

Normally abnormal

We chronically ill women try so hard to do "normal" things. Like look well. Be cheerful. Be patient. Kind. Hospitable. Our family and marriage are our first priority after God. We try so hard to spin our wheel not fast- but at a "normal" pace. 

By "normal", we compare ourselves to those who do not suffer from chronic illness and pain. Or are disabled. We are very careful to keep serving our family but sometimes with the illness that afflicts us: we fail. This often gets to us and causes us to sink into depression. 

Being unable to process that we simply can't act as "normals", we often berate ourselves and sink into the Pit of Despair. We are often judged by "normal" standards, as we simply cannot attend certain social functions like before. If we do, the pain and effort can make us tense and we can make us appear moody unsociable grumps aka the death head at the feast. 

If only "normals" would realise that we are pushing ourselves every day to live a life that not even closely is "normal" like in the days before our health failed. We get so adept at doing this, that we have become quite good at wearing masks to cover the Mask Of Pain. Hence the appearance of being in a mood. 

My fibromyalgia and other health issues have now made it impossible for me to disguise, and I have learned to acknowledge this to people and tell them in advance that my attendance or action or whatever is totally subject to how I am on any given day. 

Basically, I have had to pander to angina, spinal and knee problems, fibromyalgia, polymyalgia rheumatica, and submit to tyrannical spoons by being totally flexible about my appointments and so on. 

People may still misjudge me but that is not my problem. I just pray that the LORD will allow them to see that I am not lazy or unsociable, but am just a chronically ill woman who finds just breathing some days enough effort. 

The LORD knows I am not well, but people take a lot more convincing. I am normally abnormal.   

Put on therefore, as the elect of God, holy and beloved, bowels of mercies, kindness, humbleness of mind, meekness, longsuffering; Colossians 3:12