10 great things about you

February 7, 2016

Sometimes with chronic illness it’s easy to focus on the bad stuff about ourselves and forget the good stuff. I’ve done it far too many times over far too many years. A couple weeks ago I wrote about chronic illness and self-esteem. Based on the response to that 2015-07-09 12.01.45and other articles I’ve written about this, I think a lot of you know what I’m talking about and you’ve had the same problem.

So today we’re changing that. I want you to do two things.

First, write down 10 great things about yourself. Write them, type them, record them, dictate to someone else who will write them. Your format doesn’t matter. Just do it. If it’s too hard, then start with 1, build up to 3, and try to get 10 over the next few weeks. These aren’t about your looks but about who you are as a person. Think about what makes you great. Keep that list and reread it every month, every week2015-11-01 14.07.39, every day, whenever you feel down – or whatever works for you. Add to it whenever you think of something else that should be on the list. When someone compliments you for something specific, add it.

Second, write at least one of those things in the comments below. You can write more than 1 if you want, but please share one. This 20120917_181648will help you and others in so many ways. It will show others that it’s possible to still be awesome when you have a chronic illness. It will give them ideas of things that are great about them, too. And when you declare to the world (or at least to the readership of this blog) that you love these things about yourself, you’ll be taking it heart and believing it more strongly than ever. So go for it!

To be fair, I figure I should probably share my own list. So here goes.

  1. I’m a good daughter, always there for my parents and helping them when I can.
  2. I’m a good friend. Even when I can’t do much physically, I listen, I offer advice, and I’m there for my friends.
  3. I’m a great crocheter.
  4. I go out of my way to help others, even people I don’t know very well.
  5. I’m a good cook. Ok, I have a limited range, but I do a good job with what I know.
  6. I’m strong. Life has made things tough for me, and sometimes I’ve given up temporarily, but eventually I always go back to trying hard to get better (or to at least not get worse.)
  7. I try my best to be a patient and health advocate for others.
  8. I’m good with kids.
  9. I’m interesting. I read a lot and have different hobbies, so I always have a variety of things to discuss with people. (Hint: this is handy for changing the topic when I don’t want to talk about my health.)
  10. I appreciate nature. Put me at the shore and I can happily sit and watch the waves for hours. Even pictures of trees make me happy. I always stop to smell the roses (literally!)

Ok, now it’s your turn. Take some time and create your own list. And remember to reread it whenever you feel a bit down.

17 Comments | Healthcare, Isolation, Limitations, Milestones, Raves, Relationships: Family & Friends & Dating & Sex, Support | Tagged: , , | Permalink
Posted by chronicrants

Trying not to chicken out

January 28, 2016

I’m supposed to travel today and I really don’t want to. And I’m sad about that, because I know I should be excited. But then, I’m trying to get away from shoulds anyway….

We’ve been friends for over 20 years. At first I would visit her. Then I’d visit her and her boyfriend. Then I’d visit her and her husband (same guy.) Then I’d visit her, her husband, and their kid. I loved all of these visits. Sure, they were different. The activities were different and the atmosphere was different, but I always had fun. In the early days I’d fly to visit her. Once we both flew to a city between us, stayed in a hotel for a weekend, and had a fabulous time exploring a new city. For the last 8 years I’ve been able to drive to visit her, which is fantastic. Since I live near her parents, she stays with them when she comes to town and we get together alone or with friends or with her entire family and we always have a fantastic time. Always.

But a few years back, visiting got harder. My health got worse. I’d visit her, her husband, and their two kids, and I’d be thoroughly exhausted. Each visit got harder, just like other things in my life got harder. But still, I visited. Even though each time, I felt the energy draining out of me.

Then I stopped visiting for a long time. I didn’t want to stop, but I just couldn’t manage it anymore. It was around the time I stopped working. In fact, my visit to her house was the last trip I made before I left my job. We went apple picking and had a great time and by the time I got home, I was a mess.

Now I try visiting once or twice a year. Last summer I visited her and her youngest, while her husband was out of town with the two older kids. That was tiring, but not too bad. It was summer, and I feel worse in the summer, so there was that. And now it’s winter, and I feel better in winter, and I’ve got my new sleep machine helping me. But the idea of 3 days with her, her husband, and their 3 kids, is just exhausting to consider, never mind actually doing it.

I don’t want to go. I want to stay home. But I want to see my friend. I wish I could visit for a day, but it too far of a drive. I wish I could stay in a hotel where it would be easier to rest, but that’s not in my budget. I wish I was health, but that’s just not my reality.

She’s told me several times that the kids are really excited to see me. She’s asked what I’d like to eat while I visit. She’s a great cook, and does a wonderful job of making gluten-free foods that I can eat (while also avoiding all of my other trigger foods.) We’ve decided that I will go out with her and the kids either in the morning or in the afternoon each day, but not both. We’ve learned that I can’t handle both. We have it all planned out. But I’m still nervous.

I tried asking myself, “What’s the worst that could happen?” Well, that’s a bad question to ask. I know what could happen. I remember when I visited last winter and I was so sick that first night. Like, the maybe-it-would-be-easier-if-I’d-just-die kind of sick. It was horrible. I’ve felt that way before, but dealing with it in someone else’s home was so much worse. Of course, that’s not the worst, but it’s the most likely. And I can’t stand the thought of it.

It’s almost noon and I’m still in my pajamas. I need to shower, get dressed, eat lunch, pack up my bag, then drive. That will use up most of my energy for the day. And then there’s dinner with the family and 3 kids all wanting my attention at once because I haven’t seen them in months.

I love them. I really do. And I’d love to see them. But I don’t want to go.

Does this sound familiar to you? Please share your experiences with this kind of thing.

P.S. Yes, I have the option of not going. But I want to see my friend and her family. So I’ll go. But I’ve promised myself that if it’s too much, I’ll leave a day or two early. I just hope tonight is ok….

13 Comments | Decisions, Expectations, Fatigue, Frustration, Gastrointestinal, Isolation, Limitations, Pain, Rants, Relationships: Family & Friends & Dating & Sex, Support, Symptoms, Unpredictable | Tagged: | Permalink
Posted by chronicrants

Labels: the bisexual-chronic illness connection

January 13, 2016

Society likes labels. It likes to put us into boxes. Sometimes those boxes overlap like a rectangular Venn diagram. Sometimes they’re similar to someone else’s array of boxes.

A lot of us have complicated relationships with our labels, and I think a lot of that has to 1-13-2016 4-32-57 PMdo with where the labels come from. I was working on a project recently where someone asked, “I have ____. Does that count as a chronic illness?” I was horrified. Why should anyone else define your condition? If you feel you have a chronic illness, isn’t that enough? And yet, I have seen it happen over and over again. Someone is told they don’t really “belong” in a group.

But labels can also be empowering. They can help us quickly convey something about ourselves to others. They can help us learn about the group that we belong to. And one of the things I find most important: they help us find community.

You’re a queer bisexual woman with a chronic illness too!?! Awesome!!

Yes, I’ve heard myself utter those words. It’s so great to talk to someone I can relate to in multiple ways. I love using certain labels because it helps me find my peeps. Totally cool.

What’s not so cool is when other people choose to label me or anyone else. It’s also not cool when they choose to redefine my labels. I’ve heard people say, “Bisexuals are only interested in threesomes.” When I say that’s not true, they disagree. Um, wouldn’t I, as a bisexual, know that better than you, a monosexual?

I’ve heard people say that if you’re not in a wheelchair then you don’t need to use a ramp. When I try to explain why that’s not true, they don’t want to hear it. They’d rather hold on to their preconceived notions than actually learn they might not be 100% correct about something.

It can be infuriating, that’s for sure. And as someone who has a chronic illness and is bi, I’ve been amazed at how much overlap I have seen in these two communities. Both chronic illnesses and bisexuality are often (though not always) invisible to the casual observer. Often, people pretend we don’t exist, either individually (“you’re dating a man so you must be straight now”) or as a group (“there’s no such thing as fibromyalgia, it’s just a made up condition so the pharmaceutical companies can sell more drugs.”)

People like to throw their labels onto us. As if I don’t know if I have chronic illnesses or not. As if I shouldn’t be allowed to define my own sexual orientation.

We both have our labels misunderstood often. Who hasn’t heard some version of “it’s not like that will kill you” when it really could, or “bisexuals aren’t capable of monogamy because when you’re with someone of one gender you’ll always be missing the other gender”? (This last one has the added bonus of marginalizing anyone who doesn’t fit into the gender binary.)

And let’s not forget the joy of having someone condescendingly explain who we are to us. I won’t even bother with a sample quote because it’s just so heinous.

There’s discrimination, and sometimes it’s based on labels that don’t apply to us but that someone assumes describe us.

Then there’s the joy of having someone argue that the label we choose isn’t “right” in some way. Like being told your condition isn’t really a chronic illness. Or the ever-popular, “I don’t think you’re really bisexual, you’re pansexual.”

But wait! Don’t despair! Because having these labels is also truly awesome!

If I didn’t use the term “chronic illness” how would I have found all of you? We all have such different diagnoses, symptoms, and life situations. I could write a blog about having Hashimoto’s Disease, but I wouldn’t get to talk about Celiac. I could write about Celiac, but what about PCOS? Anyone with a different diagnoses probably wouldn’t bother to read or comment. Using “chronic illness” allows us to all connect, and that’s magical.

I feel the same way about calling myself bi. Sure, it means that sometimes I’m shunned in lesbian spaces. But it also helps me to find other bi folks. It means people don’t look at me askance when I mention that cute girl over there, even though they knew I was dating a guy last year. We can share stories and music and movies and books. We can simply find each other.

And don’t forget the research. The health research around chronic illnesses is probably somewhat familiar to you. But did you know about Bisexual Health Awareness Month? The research around health disparities for bisexual folks is super important, but how could anyone conduct that research unless people self-labeled as bi?

I could go on for days about the similarities in the way labels affect both the CI and bi communities so for now I’ll just say, thank goodness for our labels. Despite all of the problems with them, they’ve help me to find some incredible people, and I’m so grateful for that.

Now, it’s time to go fight some more of those damn stereotypes!

How do you feel about labels? What are some of the labels you apply to yourself? I’d love to hear from you in the comments!

7 Comments | Educating, Expectations, Frustration, Isolation, Rants, Raves | Tagged: , , , , | Permalink
Posted by chronicrants

Should I try to do more?

December 28, 2015

There’s no guide. Not only do we have to decide for ourselves what’s “right” but the only way to figure it out is by trial and error. And who wants to risk the error part?

Friends have been pressuring me to visit them more. Part of me feels like I should be able to do it. But then other parts of me think it would be a very bad idea. But maybe I should try anyway? I used to fly 3-5 times each year. Now my last flight was 5 years ago. It’s time. But is it?

I’ve done a lot these last few days. Today is my day to rest. But I look at my “to do” list and there’s so much that I need to get done. So maybe I should get groceries today. Or maybe that’s too much. But I’ve been doing better lately, so I should try to do more. Or maybe that’s too much and I’ll regret it.

I know from experience:

  • If I don’t do enough, my abilities will atrophy, and I’ll feel capable of doing less.
  • If I do too much, I’ll feel horrible, it will take me days or weeks to recover physically and longer to recover emotionally.
  • Either way, I won’t know if it’s too much or too little until later, after it’s too late to change anything.
  • The doctors can’t help me with this. It’s up to me to decide.

Crappy options, right? There’s a sweet spot, an amount that’s just right. I’m looking for that, but I have no idea how to find it.

I think about how much more I used to do before I got sicker 4 years ago. I worked full time, traveled, did errands, went out with friends. I think about how much less I did 3 years ago when I socialized very little and didn’t leave the house more than 2 days in a row, if that. I think about what my friends with chronic illness can do. I think about what they can’t do. And I still don’t know what I should be doing.

I wish this was a conundrum I faced every few years, but it’s not. It’s constant. Every few months this seems to come up. I’m super aware of it now. I feel horrible in the hot summer months, so I spent that time at home, resting, trying to get by. Then I had an accident and there went autumn. Now the new year is approaching and I am just beginning to walk around again after 6 months of reduced activity.

I need to do more. I’m in recovery from surgery, so I’m supposed to walk more and get back to where I was before. But where was I “before”? I honestly don’t remember. Am I aiming for where I was at right before the accident? That was summer, and I usually do less in the summer. Should I am for my typical winter activity level? Should I push to do as much as I can? But I know that’s a bad idea – doing as much as I can in the short term will mean burnout in the long term.

Maybe going grocery shopping today is doing too much. Or maybe staying home today is doing too little. There’s no magic answer, no one to tell me what’s right, no official guidelines. I just have to guess.

For now I’m going slowly. I’m telling my friends I won’t be getting on a plane yet. But I wonder, maybe this is the year that I finally will? Or is that too much?

How do you figure out what you can and can’t do when the boundaries keep changing? Please share in the comments. Maybe one of your tips will help me and others!

2 Comments | Decisions, Expectations, Fatigue, Frustration, Isolation, Limitations, Pain, Rants, Symptoms, Unpredictable | Tagged: , | Permalink
Posted by chronicrants

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