Living this new Life

One of the many things I've struggled with in the past year is learning to deal with my limitations. When dealing with a chronic illness, your recovery is not a temporary thing, like convalescing after surgery.  No, the limits and changes are permanent.  

Dealing with a chronic illness is a lot like going through the stages of grief.  The five stages of grief, is a series of emotional stages experienced when faced with impending death or death of someone. The five stages are denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance.  The loss of your life as you've known it can be difficult to understand and accept.

For myself, denial and anger go hand in hand.  For a long time, I denied the fact that I couldn't do certain things anymore.  When faced with pain, I would get angry and continue to push myself which created more problems, more pain.  Struggling with the fact that I could no longer go hiking in the mountains, or go window shopping for an hour, or sometimes, even a run to the grocery store was more than my body could handle.  I felt betrayed by my own body.  I'm only 50 years old!  I'm not ready for a cane, or being told that I might need to use a scooter at Wal-Mart!  That's for old people, not me!  But the reality is, this is my new reality and I have to learn to accept it.

Bargaining was not a big issue with me.  I am a control freak and to me, there was no either/or with this situation.  I WAS going to get better and get back to my old life one way or another.  I really should laugh at my own arrogance.

Depression has been my constant companion since reaching my diagnosis.  I alternate between getting mad at my body and throwing pity parties for myself.  A little whine to go with that pity?  Depression can become crippling if we allow it.  I've become isolated at times and drowning in depression so deep that I could barely speak, let alone function. How did I get to this point?  I have plenty of loved ones around that care for me and want to help me.  I have a great therapist, who I would be lost without. I'm on good medication. Why isn't that enough? Because I'm the only one who can get me through this. At some point, I have to do the work and become accepting.  Until I accept and surrender to my new life, I will continue to struggle through my days.  In the end, it's up to me.

What does acceptance mean to someone with a chronic illness.  Do I have to accept that my life is over?  Not at all.  It just means that I now live a different life than I had expected.  I can no longer work, so I ensure that I do volunteer work to continue giving back and being productive.  I can't do everything I'd like to, but I do what I can and build on my strengths so that I am a valuable partner.

Acceptance for me meant giving up my big camera that had been a staple in my life for over ten years.  I sold it to a friend and bought a smaller camera that I could hold.  It's a new beginning for me in my passion for photography.  What helps is my current subject - my new grandddaughter.

Acceptance is pacing myself.  I can't clean the entire house in one day like I used to.  So, I do laundry one day, dust the next, sweep and mop another day.  I've learned to grocery shop more frequently and limit myself to two bags per trip.  I plan menus every week and that makes it easier as well.


Acceptance for me meant understanding that my friends and family could't always be there when I needed them to drag me out of the house or do something fun.  I need to learn to stand on my own two feet.  I need to meet new people, develop new interests and not be afraid of what my new life has to offer.  It's scary, but I'm taking baby steps.

Acceptance for me is starting a gratitude journal.  Every night I list three things that happened that day that I am grateful for or that made me happy.  It allows me a chance to go back and read happy thoughts on those days that I struggle with finding joy.

Acceptance for me is learning mindfulness.  I'm trying not to constantly look to the future for my happiness, but to find it in the moments that I'm living in now.  

Every day is a new lesson, but I'm learning to find extraordinary moments in ordinary days.

I'm not perfect.  I fall back into bad habits.  I still have pity parties.  But after they're over, I pick myself up and start over again.  Because I'm resilient.