Rachel GuerreroHappy Tuesday WomensWake clan,
I’ve spent much time recently sitting in reflection on improving my quality of life. Well, much less recently, but a more drawn-out revisiting process that started with the realization of complete dissatisfaction with my new sick life and the discipline to realize it was only myself that would provide me with a better one. You see, once I lost my health, it impacted every area of my life greatly. I went from hiking/running everyday, participating in backpacking extravaganzas, snowboarding, and freely dancing on nights out, to not being able to grocery shop or fold laundry without much pain and fatigue. This is a destiny too many young women are unfortunate to experience in America once diagnosed with a Chronic Illness. These young, beautiful souls have their lives stripped from them when becoming ill and never able to achieve more. Chronic Fatigue and autoimmune disease are ones that I am familiar with and do not wish on anybody else. Alas, with these major changes, adaptation is no longer just wanted but needed for survival—all encompassing of its nature.
Not to be overly dramatic, as I am very good at, but if you are rolling your eyes at the mushy gooshy, melodramatic language I am using, I am trying very hard not to sound too robotic and more “humanlike”. It has dawned upon me recently how robotic my writing comes across and I’ve had to accept it as part of my style while pushing myself to be more literature over “How to article” as my tone of writing isn’t going to be good in this day and age with the rise of AI. It is rough out here for us who love a good list and over-punctuation, but we must resist and take our beloved bullet points and em dashes back!
Proceeding on, I must say this new lifestyle of easily fatigued nature was a hard adjustment and in an act of refusal to accept it, I had a bad habit of pushing myself until I crashed and flared, instead of conserving my energy to prevent those crashes. It took years until I was fed up with the work, crash, flare pattern, that I decided to move onto a better lifestyle; a lifestyle that supported my autoimmune disease and lessened the frequency of my crashes. This new lifestyle had to preserve my energy at any cost, but I had to ask: how is that possible in such a busy, demanding world? If I have no option but to work, do millions of doctors’ appointments, cook, clean, and my less necessity but more need for physical movement, the embracement of nature, devotion to my relationships and friendships, and the want for playfully indulged wanderlust, so I must miraculously find a way to preserve my energy in every minute it is in my control.
I used to fall into a bad habit of placing emphasis on that outside my control and even over-pouring energy into things that did not concern me. I would get worked up over small things that ultimately didn’t impact any other aspect of my future life and over-concern myself with the lives of others. This is all a nice way of saying, I stuck my nose into others’ business and pointed my bony finger at others for doing me wrong. It was a total waste of my energy and with the loss of my health, I realized I couldn’t afford this energy sucker anymore. Like any habit, it was hard to shake and took over-correction again and again until I became so incredibly fed up with myself, my only choice was to stop. So stopped I did, and the more energy I had to focus on what truly mattered to me: my part in relationships, a job that aligned with my moral views, traveling and extras I saw fit, and let go of the uncontrollable, chaotic world around me to the best of my ability.
Every minute spent complaining, gossiping, bitching, was replaced with a minute of productivity. That, my friends, is how I began to slowly take my power and ability back while sick.
Think of all moments spent focusing on our past and future, all the mistakes we’ve made—in my case millions—that could be used towards something beautifully productive.
I came to the realization that I felt I was living through each day just to get to the next. That I was impatiently glaring at the clock with an invisible countdown, excitedly waiting for the day to come to the end, just so I could do it all over the next. What was I waiting for? I then realized that the only moments I wasn’t counting down time for was those that I was not in pain. Every second that I am in a stretch with a relief of total inflammation, I can feel myself in the moment, without my nagging tendency to look at the clock. When I was free of pain, time stood still.
It’s funny how I used to move with such ease while becoming distracted by all that was wrong in my life until one day my body stopped its ability to dance and every step after felt like a miracle.
Preserving this feeling of present, pain free bliss through emotional regulation took a long, long time to learn. How to sit in a doctor’s office receiving bad news without losing myself in the future. How to calmly accept the extra financial burden, or simply, something as small as someone cutting you off in traffic. Or as large as the burden of unfair family dynamics including members that know how to get under your skin. Let it all go. I have even started bringing a book to the pharmacy because when the pharmacist tells me for the 100th time there is an error on a prescription or that the insurance has removed its coverage of my medication, I can still enjoy the time while I wait. Every moment chosen to stay at peace contributes to your overall being and is a way for you to choose you. Because when you are sick with a limited life and the overall impending weight you sit with is a reduced life span, every moment counts. No one is going to give you your life back more than yourself and ensure you have happiness in the little moments.
So choose your happiness.
With Love,
Miss Rachel
I hope that as my writing changes in its ways, you will accept me in the ways I too, have changed.