How Do We Handle An Illness? A New Kind of Normal
Since this is the 499th post for Women on the Verge of Thinking, I wanted it to deal with a subject that many people can relate to, in one form or another. Some of you have been faithful readers of this blog since its inception, perhaps reading diligently like a voyeur, rather than posting, but nevertheless showing a keen interest in its content. The blog is a reflection of my own life, and although it started with political rants about Bush and Iraq, it has morphed into subjects that are much more introspective, and often personal in character, but to be candid, these issues have mirrored my own life for the past couple of years. Truthfully, writing is a means by which I can express myself best, allow the inner workings of my body and mind turn to 'action figures,' (if you will) in the form of written expression.
What happens when you or someone you love, becomes ill, and receives a devastating diagnosis that will uproot your life and your family? How does one deal with this painful fact yet still allow himself/herself to grow, blossom and keep going? Surely, many of you can relate to this subject, having yourselves experienced illness, or seeing a loved one become ill, and watch your world crumble or your own life change in so many ways. What does one do?
For me, and many others with whom I have spoken, one learns to adjust to news of an illness eventually, perhaps even coming to the conclusion that we must learn to live with unresolved issues, as a friend of mine who is seriously ill has confided. Although we adjust, it will not be the same normal as we once knew, but a new kind of normal. Each and every individual's own unique circumstances delineate far more to this end to ever lead anyone to believe there is a defined length of time, or timetable for acceptance of these events to occur.
Accepting that one has an illness and cannot change this fact is a key to moving forward and not staying stuck on a never-ending roller coaster ride. Fear, of course can transpire and rear its ugly head in many forms including anxiety, panic, anger flight, fight freeze or feign. For me, I do my very best to replace faith with fear, and when finding myself becoming consumed by such self-sabotaging behavior, I remember that I am not in charge of how anything turns out ultimately. All I can do is my part, what I am told, the footwork, if you will, and let G-d handle the rest. Moreover, it is very helpful to know that everything changes, and that each and every day, the sun will rise and set, and we can begin all over again, and one learns to cherish each and every good thing in life no matter how large or small it may be.
Perhaps what keeps one going, in addition to hope and faith, is being surrounded by loving caring family and friends. Some of you I have even had the great pleasure to meet through this blog, a true gift.
One must not ever give up, never ever, and stay hopeful, and if one forgets to do so, remember that tomorrow is a new day, and there is that blooming possibility to begin the day anew and start all over again.
Thank you for your minds.
What happens when you or someone you love, becomes ill, and receives a devastating diagnosis that will uproot your life and your family? How does one deal with this painful fact yet still allow himself/herself to grow, blossom and keep going? Surely, many of you can relate to this subject, having yourselves experienced illness, or seeing a loved one become ill, and watch your world crumble or your own life change in so many ways. What does one do?
For me, and many others with whom I have spoken, one learns to adjust to news of an illness eventually, perhaps even coming to the conclusion that we must learn to live with unresolved issues, as a friend of mine who is seriously ill has confided. Although we adjust, it will not be the same normal as we once knew, but a new kind of normal. Each and every individual's own unique circumstances delineate far more to this end to ever lead anyone to believe there is a defined length of time, or timetable for acceptance of these events to occur.
Accepting that one has an illness and cannot change this fact is a key to moving forward and not staying stuck on a never-ending roller coaster ride. Fear, of course can transpire and rear its ugly head in many forms including anxiety, panic, anger flight, fight freeze or feign. For me, I do my very best to replace faith with fear, and when finding myself becoming consumed by such self-sabotaging behavior, I remember that I am not in charge of how anything turns out ultimately. All I can do is my part, what I am told, the footwork, if you will, and let G-d handle the rest. Moreover, it is very helpful to know that everything changes, and that each and every day, the sun will rise and set, and we can begin all over again, and one learns to cherish each and every good thing in life no matter how large or small it may be.
Perhaps what keeps one going, in addition to hope and faith, is being surrounded by loving caring family and friends. Some of you I have even had the great pleasure to meet through this blog, a true gift.
One must not ever give up, never ever, and stay hopeful, and if one forgets to do so, remember that tomorrow is a new day, and there is that blooming possibility to begin the day anew and start all over again.
Thank you for your minds.
12 Comments:
I understand this all too well. My father was diagnosed with a progressive, devastating disease 2 years ago and it has been torture watching him go downhill. And it will only get worse. It's hard to find a silver lining there, but I try to count my blessings. And his.
Your daughter and your entire family remain in my thoughts and prayers.
As a long time reader I can say that your optimism and positive outlook is simply remarkable.
Many would succumb to thoughts of melancholy, not you.
Ther'es an old Dutch proverb 'after rain, there's sunshine.
I think you really live by that saying.
Stacey, I am so sorry to hear about your father. As I have said, counting one's blessings, even when faced with adversity, and taking life one day at a time is a great gift.
Prag, thank you for your kind words. It is easy to drown in self-pity, which I find, is not good for anyone, my family nor myself. I try to stay in the moment, but as you can read, I am not ever alone.
I am just about a week into a sibling's late-in-life diagnosis of bipolar disorder. It is truly life-changing, yet we are only at the beginning. The fallout is enormous. Kids, spouses, other relatives, neighbors, teachers, clients, etc.
Rhea
The Boomer Chronicles
Honey, one of the hardest "symptoms" of illness is uncertainty management. You have to learn to live on constantly shifting ground. You have to get your sea legs.
My SIL is struggling with the recent diagnosis (from 2 independent sources) of her daughter with Asperger's, a mild form of autism. She's been told that her daughter's future may not involve loving romantic relationships or even durable friendships; that her daughter will always lag behind her peers developmentally in some areas, while exceeding them in others (but rarely keeping pace with them in a way that would encourage camaraderie); that her daughter may not be able to hold down a job. This is the hand fate dealt her, and it's a heavy load. She fears for her daughter's emotional health, for what the future may bring. But, as you said, the only thing she has control over is her own behavior with her daughter. She's committed to making what feel like the best choices at the time she makes them, even if she ends up regretting them later. Inaction is worse than well-intentioned but ultimately ineffective action. Please remember that: you are doing the BEST you CAN. {{{{{B}}}}}
Both Asperger's Syndrome and a diagnosis of Bipolar disorder can indeed be devistating on everyone. My heart goes out to you both.
I have found that when I write about something, it comes out of me, and sometimes, I can transform my thinking, even before my own eyes. An added bonus, is that perhaps what I say may help another person, in a small way, and know that he/she is not alone.
As Joan Dideon says in her magnificant book, THE YEAR OF MAGICAL THINKING, "Life changes fast. Life changes in an instant. You sit down to dinner and life as you know it ends."
In her book, she talks about what it is like to lose someone, to illness and to death.
My Mom has clinical depression, I havent talked about it much on the blogs, but most days she doesnt get out of bed.
My family is riddled with alcoholics. My sister has been sober for just about ten years, and my brother never admitted it.
I have two brothers-in-law with the disease, and one has a bright future; the other lives in squalor because he can't cope.
While I've accepted the illness of my dear family members, I still have a hard time dealing with it. It hurts when I think about what they could have become, versus what the alcoholism has limited them to be.
Write on, Barbara. I find comfort in your words.
hope is the only thing we have... even if it proves to be a hopeless situation...
prayer doesn't work... hmm, but then again, isn't prayer only another version of hope?
My Feb wallpapers @ Photozombie
Ashley- watching someone suffer from a mental illness can be just as difficult, if not nor so, than a physical illness. My heart goes out to you.
Fred, thank you for your kind words: you are such a gentleman as always. And, alcoholism is in fact a disease.
Bohica, my good friend: you are filled with wisdom in spite of yourself. Good to see you here.
It's such a paradox isn't it? I mean, on one hand a person wants to move towards acceptance and on the other hand, the fight for hope is housed in not accepting it..... or am I wrong about that?
I'm also thinking that accepting "a new kind of normal" is often like trying to take bitter medicine. One can only do so one little sip at a time......acceptance comes gradually and best with a strong dose of hope.
My thoughts are with you and your family, Barbara.
Hi Barbara,
I have been down this road with a number of friends and family. It is not easy. Sometimes all you can do is take it one day at a time.
In fact I would argue that breaking up challenges into little pieces is almost always easier than looking at the whole.
Best wishes to you and your family.
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