Monday, March 26, 2012
I found myself in a conversation a few days ago with other chronically ill women and we were talking about that old taboo subject of suicide. You might find that peculiar, absurd, ridiculous, sinful, or just not something you would ever entertain. We didn't find it to be any of those things. In fact, to us, it was as normal as any other mediocre conversation one might have anywhere, anytime. You see, being chronically ill can be more challenging than the joy that life brings....it's all so imbalanced. The bad days stay around so long that a good day feels like a reason to jump up and celebrate, if you are physically able that is, some folks are not. Chronic illness has this way of making one a realist, maybe it's the pain or the isolation. All I know is that suffering, even when you find others suffering and willing to talk about it with you, suffering is all-consuming physically and mentally and a positive thought can be as elusive as the memories of feeling fine are. Mind you, I am not depressed, often though I am very tired of fighting for good health, tired of having a f-king full time job of taking care of myself, of seeing doctor after doctor, of medicating, and of rarely having a free thought or moment of joy.
My best advice, when I'm not in the dark place, is to get out and be around other folks and pretend, if even for a few hours, to be normal, allow yourself to escape to the place of perfect health, if only in your mind...pretend. Surround yourself with other beings, animals or humans, just get out of your house and into the community. There is strength and joy out there in the world in the realm of humanity, love and acceptance. Rejuvenation can come from seeing normalcy and also from seeing others infirmaries and realizing that you are not alone. Just a few hours walking among those who are able to function on a daily basis, sure is uplifting. I think it reminds me of who I was before the struggle and allows me to breath it all in for just a little while, giving me hope and strength to carry on another day; at least long enough to forget the noose...
Posted by Victoria Hart at 9:10 PM