The unexpected tale of how chronic illness helped me fall in self-love
As I sit in my favourite chair, on the second day of the year, with the twinkles of ‘back to work’ starting to return, I’m thinking about what I want the next weeks, months and year to mean to me.
I’ve just polished off a bowl of chocolate ice cream, crumbled up homemade meringue still going from Christmas Eve (which is still both spongy and chewy in the middle), and the dregs of a pot of double cream drizzled over so that it sets on the ice cream. My mouth feels the effects of too much sugar throughout the day, I’m bunged up with a cold… and yet I am happy. In a way that warms my heart, is content and grounded.
How different to the Me of years gone by, I think.
I stopped setting resolutions years ago, realising they were a trap that led to self-destruction and self-beration. Having spent the Christmas period away from social media, it’s easy to not question that decision. But a couple of minutes back and the doubts creep in.
~ Am I doing ‘it' right?
~ Have other people already made better choices than me?
~ Should I be doing and saying and thinking what they are?
~ Shit, that bowl of ice cream was stupid, not least because I have a cold.
But then, as I’ve learned to do this past 12-months in my stepping back from social media, I recognise these thoughts. I recognise the comparison and the self-doubt creep in, I know that’s exactly how social media is designed, and I remember myself.
And in that, more words come to me about what my chronic illness has given me this year.
It’s helped me reconnect with and reclaim what was lost.
Whether it was lost in the process of living with my chronic illness (in a way that was laid out for me by society and status quo), or whether I perhaps never really had it before, I’m still figuring out. I think that’s something that will unfold as this next year does.
But what I do know, as I finish a bowl of ice cream on the second day of the year, when we’re ‘meant to be’ dieting and pre-punishing and guilt tripping, is that in 2021, my chronic illness helped me to love myself. Like, really, deeply, gratefully, appreciate who I am and the life I get to live during my time on this earth. It’s shown me how much I didn’t, before, and that saddens me.
Could it be that the thing we need to help us heal, in all the ways we want to (and in all the ways we don’t yet realise), is the very thing we’re told we need to ‘get rid of’ in order to be deemed ‘healed’?
That not only can you use your chronic illness as a guiding light, an ally, a superpower, but that actually, it’s wisdom is very much a fundamental part of your healing journey.
Last year I didn’t ‘define’ my word of the year until about a quarter of the way in, and although I felt like I’d missed an opportunity in some way, once I had chosen my word, I realised I’d been channelling it all along.
What I also realised is that I need overlap, it suits me well. This year is no different; I’m not quite finished being guided and inspired by ‘support’, so I’m going to allow it to carry me through whilst I figure out what’s next.
Some thoughts on what that might be…
I’ve been repeating the mantra ‘that’s not my responsibility’. It seems to fit well with something else I’ve learned, and that’s to give less of a shit. Before I sound like I’ve taken a wrong turn into selfish, careless and ignorant territory, let me elaborate.
Both are more about not taking on/taking responsibility - or worrying about - the things that are only really distractions from what truly matters. They’re about not wasting my time and energy on things, thoughts and practices that end up being self-serving (to themselves, not me) in a way that’s far removed from my original ‘why’.
A prime example of that is getting sucked into Instagram, forgetting that it’s a potential tool for my business, ‘It' is not my business.
Another is getting so wrapped up in how well I perform any given ‘healing (or lifestyle) practice’ that I forget to check in whether it’s actually doing me any good. Both things I actually left behind in 2020, but the concept I feel could use deeper exploration.
Update!: The word I’ve chosen for 2022, yes, 8 months in, is slow. I say 8 months in, but it’s been with me the whole time.
I’m Alana, Chronic Illness Coach, Writer and Podcaster
After 10 years of trying to fix, fight and ‘cure’ my chronic illness, I decided to chuck away the rule book and instead embrace my chronic illness as my guide, ally and superpower… and I’ve never been happier or healthier!
