Today was the first time I actually cried during therapy. I have only had four sessions with her so far, so maybe today I cried because I think I was able to open up a little more than usual with her. She asked me to tell her how I had been feeling for the past two weeks, and I, whom seem to have all kinds of words, became speechless. My list of emotions are endless.
Let me start with the first emotion we discussed...worthlessness. She asked me what I felt most, and I told her that I simply felt worthless. And, that's when I began to cry. It is hard for me to fathom how much my illnesses have really taken from me. The not being able to work has been the most difficult challenge because I honestly feel as though I am not contributing enough. Then, I feel worthless because I have not been able to play with my kids the way I once did. And, then there is the fact that I feel like I am in a prison cell because there really is very little I can do.
Worthless is not me. She told me that my children love me regardless of the things I can not do anymore. They love me the same. She told me to look up in the sky and notice all the living things...and realize that I am still very much a part of this world. I am needed. I am loved. I am special. I am worth so very much. So, now I have to work on some grounding techniques to help rid myself of the worthless feelings. Anxiety and fear are two major emotions that have been tormenting me for a while...especially over the past two months.
I broke each of my fears down for her one by one: death, having my kids see me get sicker, the unknown, money, the illnesses, the surgery, the copious amount of doctors I see, the plethora of medicine I am on...I could go on and on about the amount of fear and anxiety I feel on a daily basis. She then noticed that every time I am in her office, I am grabbing my arm with hand. She told me this is a coping mechanism. It allows me to feel that I am still alive. And, apparently, I do this a lot at home too. She is teaching me breathing techniques that go along with the grounding therapy to help my body stay relaxed and calm. I have to live for today only...not yesterday or tomorrow, just today. Therapy was so so helpful for me today.
I had to realize that I don't know who I'd be without my illnesses. That is no longer an option for me. They are a part of me, but I do not have to let them define me. I am learning more about myself than I did before I got sick.
Decisions are difficult for me, even the smallest decisions. My mind is so jumbled that I feel like I cannot make decisions soundly. As chronically ill people, we make so many decisions. All of the time. And most of the time, they are big important things that can really impact our lives. Like medications, procedures, you name it. And, the thing is, by the time I've made all of the important decisions, I don't feel like having to make more decisions. It's called decision fatigue.
Decision fatigue can happen to anyone, but seems particularly apt in the case of chronically ill people. Being the type A-er that I am, I have always had a hard time saying "no". In the past, this has caused me to over-commit, to the point of being extreme. Over the past year, however, I think I have done a better job of saying "no" to things or skipping events that would suck the energy right out of me and then I would be no good to anyone.
Mainly, though, I have had a significant amount of time where I've been unable to function, which has necessitated clearing my schedule of everything but the most necessary things I have had to do. This, of course, ebbs and flows, but there are times when my body says "no" for me. When I don't have any other choice but to say "no". It is still hard for me to say "no" or to admit that I can't do everything and have to pick my tasks wisely. Sometimes, even when you want to do something and you do it, you have to be okay with the consequences. Then, there are other times, when doing something, just isn't worth the price you pay.
That is why we have to pick our battles and commitments wisely. There are certain things I won't give up on, no matter what. There are other things that simply just aren't worth the cost. This is a really hard fact to accept. I'm totally sure I am not there yet. Every time I overdue something, my body rebels, and reminds me I'm sick and don't have unlimited energy stored.
I am sick of being complicated.
I am sick of being sick.
Sick upon being sick of being sick.
I am sick of looking in the mirror and not seeing the woman I was before.
I want my old face back, not the puffy one from all the medicine...my beautiful glorious face. I have never been one of those "drop dead gorgeous" women to begin with, but I really wish my outer appearance would go back to the cute girl I once thought myself to be. I wish I had appreciated myself more before I got sick. But, in some ways, the transformation seems appropriate as if the change in my outward appearance reflects the change in my outlook and my life and is a sign of all I have endured and overcome; it is my stigmata. I am no longer that 20 something girl that defined herself by her appearance. I am a woman who knows, at the very core of her being, that outward beauty is meaningless and fleeting. I know that my time is better spent being a better person than a more physically attractive one. My illnesses have delivered me from the tyranny of a looks-obsessed society. I cannot compete with models and movie starlets. I never could, but now I have an excuse to opt out of even trying. I have to be satisfied with my appearance because there is nothing I can do about it. I look in the mirror and realize, "I am what I am" and that is good enough. Better late than never. And my mom has always told me that God never makes mistakes...so, I just need to keep remembering that, always.
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