Thought for the week: Being real

‘Honesty, integrity and openness are the beginnings of recovery.’

‘Honesty, integrity and openness are the beginnings of recovery.’ | Photo: Public domain.

For nearly five years I’ve struggled with what I now understand to be Chronic Fatigue Syndrome/Fibromyalgia. This manifests itself as a great deal of pain, low energy, and high levels of anxiety and depression.

I’d like to say what a wonderful growth journey this is, but right now I want to be real about it. It hurts. It’s a miserable way of having to live life, and I do not want it one little bit. Anyone who is enduring any kind of chronic illness will recognise it. It means: not being able to do things that once gave me pleasure and satisfaction; a great deal of social isolation; relentless pain, with little relief; worry about the pain and whether I’m saddled with it for the rest of my days; frustration; and self-pity. All of this is followed by self-judgment, which says that I should be able to rise above it, or that umpteen people have far worse to deal with.

I believe it is important to say how horrible it is to be ill and unable to live a ‘normal’ life, whatever the cause and whatever the prognosis. Honesty, integrity and openness are the beginnings of recovery. And yes, I do still believe that recovery is possible – whether in the form of my symptoms being alleviated or disappearing, or in such a transformation of outlook that I can live peacefully with them. That’s a process, not a quick fix, and it moves forward in fits and starts, with many setbacks. I’ve watched countless YouTube videos about people who have made spectacular recoveries from seemingly incurable conditions. These keep me going when I feel dark and without hope. I’ve watched videos about the importance of positive thinking, changes in diet and any number of things. All of this is important; all these things can and do make a difference.

But most important of all, I find, is honesty, with myself and with others. This comes very, very hard. I’ve been so used to being energetic, efficient, capable, good-humoured, entertaining, caring, intelligent, enthusiastic and thoughtful. This was partly intrinsic, but it was also how I made sure that I received positive regard, love and appreciation. So what happens when I lose the energy to live this way? My carefully constructed identity comes tumbling down and I’m forced to face my shadow side, where being a slob is attractive, where I don’t want to help others or display any of those qualities. It’s a shocking realisation that I’m not who I thought I was.

It is also much more real: it’s all of me. I am intrinsically the ‘good’ things I present, but I am also intrinsically the ‘bad.’ And this recognition is the beginning of real self-love. If I can’t come to peace with my own character (lived, or dormant) then how can I possibly love anyone else, allowing them to be all of who they are, not just their carefully created identities?

When I can do that, I suspect that my back pain will subside, my energy will increase, and my anxiety and depression will lessen. It is probably also the most valuable work I can be doing, for myself and for the planet. Jesus said love your neighbour as yourself, not instead of yourself. It’s a profound command.

You need to login to read subscriber-only content and/or comment on articles.