Weekly Photo Challenge: Transformation

Chronic illness transforms us in many ways. For thanksgiving, I chose to focus on the good ways that Fibromyalgia has transformed me, as I reminisced about my life in general.

Just a few years ago, I was a high-energy person with no time nor thought for anything but to get ahead in the world. Yet now, I am a much calmer, more “centered” soul who is reconnecting with her old timey loves.

Autumn
By letting go of the old, we gain the opportunity to transform into something new — and beautiful!

Until I came down with fibro, it had been years since I had read purely for pleasure, though reading used to be my favorite hobby through much of my childhood! Always an inward-leaning and introspective child at my core, I incorporated my thoughts and feelings into my art (I did watercolors back then) as well as the poetry and fiction I would write for myself.

Later in middle school, I was the student reporter for the school-beat of the local daily, and contributed towards the school magazine in high school. I remember a particular editorial I once wrote about anxiety, depression and suicidal thoughts among students, and how the current education system in my country handled the issue poorly, not to mention the social taboo it was to even talk about it!

I lost touch with all of that once I got into college. Perhaps because of various new stresses and changes in my life at the time, I transformed into a much more “outward”-oriented person. I wanted to make the most of my experience in a new country, new environment; I wanted to soak up all the opportunities I suddenly had which I couldn’t have dreamed of before! Always an ambitious person, I finally saw the roads which could lead me to the success I sought! My definition of success was complicated; it definitely included job satisfaction and doing what I loved, but I also wanted money, position, autonomy, and a certain rank in the hierarchy of society. And I was going to work hard to make sure I did not waste the chances I was granted to attain it.

Though I am glad I got to chase my dreams and live that fast-paced life for several years, I am equally glad for being able to slow down as I developed fibromyalgia. Now I am finally able to reconnect with the pleasures of my childhood:

I am finally able to enjoy quiet moments reading at my leisure, or lost in thought as I write just for pleasure. I learned to paint in oils (one of my childhood dreams), and express my emotions through my paintings. (And that little rhyme was a nod to my childhood poetic musings, though I do little of that now.)

I am glad that even when I am stuck in bed, I can now find joy just watching the golden sunlight dancing on my walls, making patterns as the light passes through the blinds or filtered through the warm, fall-colored, translucent curtains.

I am glad that I am now able to delve more into photography and art, as I had always hoped to do more with those! There is something flighty and fun about stopping the car at random places to photograph a particularly beautiful purple leaf. Or simply walking around the park and admiring how the leaves on the shade-side of the maple turned red, but the light-side remained green. Or just finding a sudden glimmer of magic as the sunshine gleams through some colored leaves!

I gained all this and more as I let go of the person that I was before fibro!

And I am grateful for the opportunity to find a more authentic person hidden inside me, who is encouraged everyday to live a more authentic life, and all because of fibro!

Love,

Fibronacci

Tough Realizations (Part II)

After a recent particularly bad flare, I had to make a difficult decision to walk away from a field in which I realized I was not welcome at anymore. If I stayed, I would constantly be forced to push myself beyond what I was physically capable of, and would still not be able to meet expectations. So you would think the separation would be mutual and amicable; yet it is not.

In many ways, I feel like I am still very tied to my work identity (although it’s been a work in progress detangling myself from it). Being a “scientist” is one of the major ways I identify myself. Every other descriptor I could think of – artist, woman, chronic illness fighter, etc. – are all farther down the list. When I think of descriptors of myself, “relationship phrases” don’t show up very high either. Many people identify themselves strongly as a parent (father/mother) or child (son/daughter) or spouse (husband/wife), or in other such relationship terms. I have trouble with that. I have always been a painfully independent person, almost to the point of being a loner. And I suspect it is the associated loss of both personal and financial independence, that comes with being ill and out of work, that is at the core of why it has been so hard for me to face the fact that I just need to take a break to focus on my health for a while.

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I am tired of pretending I am stronger than I am . . . so why can I not STOP?

The loss of personal freedom has been something I have been constantly struggling with since developing fibromyalgia. While I can be great at offering and providing help, I absolutely suck at seeking and accepting it! It took me a while to even recognize that I had my partner in my court, and that its OK to lean on him and allow him to help me. It made a world of difference once I let myself be helped with my day to day tasks! And for once, I felt comfortable enough being helped that I never realized how hard it would be physically to live without that help!

Living in a small town, my chances of getting a job here were pretty minuscule, especially in science. For many years, I kind of saw this as a boon because I hated being trapped in one place for too long, and this place seemed to come with its own time limit. But now that it was time for me to move on and take a job in a different part of the country, I had to seriously consider how I would manage a demanding full-time job with other issues like uncertain transportation (potentially a lot of walking), cleaning, cooking, laundry, bathing/hair washing, and a myriad other day to day things that I often need help with. All of the little things that didn’t even merit a thought in my brain at one time are now all serious issues that have the potential to wipe me out and flatten me on my back for days.

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Accepting help is its own kind of strength

I realized that for the first time, I actually need my husband to be with me, physically, and help me out! Not to mention, I would also need him financially, if I were jobless, and not just to provide general subsistence (a shared need), but also for my healthcare needs (a very personal one). And I have never needed anyone in that way before. As a person who prizes her independence, that realization – that I might really need someone now – was one of the toughest I have ever had to come face to face with.

My husband knows how hard that is for me. In fact, he has always known it. That is why he has never made big deal of helping me – he just did it quietly and unassumingly – and made a point of doing so without treating me like an invalid. I feel like very few people are lucky to have that kind of love in their lives. And that is why – perhaps what has been even tougher for me to face – is that even that kind of selfless love does not make up for the sense of loss that I feel due to my illness.

This realization has been really hard for me because it is almost like admitting his love is not enough, despite everything he does for me all the time. And it makes me feel guilty, because he has been the only constant force through many of the things that I have been battling for many years. Yet it is not as if I am not grateful to him and for him. But it is the gratitude that one might feel for nurses when interned at a hospital. It’s great to have that tender loving care, but they would much rather never be in the hospital in the first place!

PeekingThrough_signed_framed
It is through the snow that spring bursts through!

Though, in some ways I wish I never had to face these harsh realizations, in other ways I am grateful for them. It has given me a chance to really think about why my work identity matters so much to me. Why am I so loathed to accept help? Why do I feel this insane need for independence? It has given me an opportunity to delve deeper into myself and work on long-standing issues that I may never have otherwise. So as a person who craves new and varied experiences, as unpleasant as this one is, I still see it as an adventure! I am still expecting good things to come out of this time of uncertain and difficult realizations. I may be a ship in a bottle for now, but that doesn’t stop me from still looking out towards the sea.

Love,

Fibronacci