FIBROMIALGIA Crying the person who was before a chronic illness

Sitting at the end of my bed, I suddenly hit the chest like a ton of bricks. My lips tremble, I feel a lump in my throat and I have to stop before the tears flow.

I have trouble putting on my socks and, quickly, I remember that my life is gone and it will never be what it was. It took me a while to mourn the loss of my former self, and even more to realize that it was what I was doing. Mourning.

And like pain, no matter how long you need to heal, you will never cry. Over the years I have lost loved ones, very special people to me and I think about it every day. Now that the years have passed, nothing is lost by remembering them, thinking about them and the beautiful memories I shared with them. However, sometimes I am unprepared.

I’m going to see my babysitter’s favorite treats in the store and I’m going to get them, so it’s lightning. My girl is no longer there. That’s where it hurts the most, when you forget that loss for a second.

It is a similar process with my condition. Now that I have struggled with this problem for almost 10 years, it is now easier to accept my limits, but occasionally I want what I have.

I forgot that I have limits and as soon as I remember things that I cannot do… It is when the blow hits my throat and my eyes in the throat, because it is very painful. real and raw This is the first time I hear about the news, once again it is pain and confusion and it is heartbreaking.

All the steps are followed quickly: he denies his illness, he presses himself to the absolute limit, then he feels such anger when he has problems to keep up with others or to perform simple tasks.

Then comes the negotiation: if I became healthier, exercised more, ate less crap, meditated more … But no matter what you do, your illnesses will not disappear. Awareness of this causes depression, does not feel well enough, feels helpless and helpless until, finally and fortunately, it takes all the turn to be accepted again.

Every time I go through the cycle, I reach acceptance faster and it lasts longer. This does not mean that I am happy with my illness, but it suits me. It is part of me now and, in most cases, I accept it, in the same way that, although my grandmother misses me with all my heart, I managed to accept her loss.

When I think of my grandmother and how much she misses me, I also think of my happiness in meeting her, being loved by her and having wonderful memories that no one can keep me.

When I think about my rheumatoid arthritis, I should also see the positive aspects. I have more than what I lost. My illness changed me, but it didn’t reduce me. It made me more empathetic with others, made me stronger, made me a fighter and, more importantly, showed me how much my family and friends loved me.

Sometimes I will cry my old body and the normal and painless life I could have lived. But for the most part, I will make the most of what I got, which, when I think about it, is more than enough


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