Living with Chronic Illness

Typing out that title immediately activates some parts in me. I have one part that feels a fraud at the ‘suggestion’ I have chronic illness. That part prefers to believe I am not included in ‘that’ category of people who are living with chronic illness or pain. “Other people are far worse off than me.” It prefers to diminish or minimise how I'm feeling for surely I’m complaining about things which "quite frankly are rather minor".

On certain days, I find myself plunged into intense congestion that seems to infiltrate every thought, compressing my mind into claustrophobic tunnels. It feels as though I'm wandering in a thick fog, with my head disconnected from my body, and there's little sense of the breath flowing through my body. There are also days when my inflamed eczema or rosacea becomes intensely red and irritated, akin to a volcano on the verge of eruption. My energy is consumed by applying creams, cautiously selecting foods, battling internally, and trying to resist the urge to itch, scratch, or even worse, tear the skin off my body. Additionally, there are days when my gut reacts to an unwelcome intruder, resulting in noticeable bloating, severe nausea, and overwhelming fatigue.

My internal family of parts is truly amazing. They each have various (and sometimes conflicting) thoughts and ideas about i) why my symptoms flare up, and ii) what actions should be taken. What all my protective parts share is their dedication to working hard for me, their desire for my well-being, and their wish for me to feel 'okay'.

I'm using this blog to recognise and express my appreciation for all my parts. Specifically:

- The part of me that diligently distracts me from health flare-ups, physical discomfort, and emotional distress. This part effectively manages by redirecting my thoughts to almost any area unrelated to my health as a means of escape. It also collaborates with my CEO part (see below) to ward off feelings of worthlessness and shame.

- My CEO part, fittingly named for her incredible skill in keeping me dedicated to the yogic path, taking charge of my day by managing my meals, household chores, and tasks, work, and pushing through a demanding to-do list aimed at suppressing physical sensations of fatigue and discomfort, while eliminating any 'unwanted' feelings of shame, isolation, or worthlessness.

- My Critic. Clients often mention that the Critic is the most challenging part to appreciate. How can we value those parts of ourselves that seemingly criticize us at every turn? These parts require some exploration and understanding. When I take the time to engage with my Critic, I realize it desires the best for me; it wants me to feel better, which is why it reprimands me for eating "the wrong food," for not being more disciplined in my lifestyle, for allowing my chocolate-loving part (see below) any attention, for staying up too late, and for not living like a monk... "Must try harder!"

- My chocolate-loving part. Wow, this part really wants me to have fun, be free, and feel unrestrained. It's such a gift to have parts like this! I really value these intentions. This part often focuses on bringing sweetness and joy into my life through chocolate consumption (as it struggles to find that in other areas of my life, given the early nights and lack of partying these days!). It tends to get very excited when there's an opportunity for me to indulge in 'treat food.' This excitement can lead to varying degrees of over-consumption, from "a little too much" to significant over-indulgence, causing a backlash among different parts as well as physical discomfort. This side often feels isolated or ostracised by the other parts, which are more managerial in nature.

Amidst the busyness of the aforementioned parts, like "unwanted weeds" (as described by a part that strives to suppress 'uncomfortable feelings') or delicate crystals, there are young, vulnerable parts that sometimes burst forth with emotion or, at other times, subtly tug at my heartstrings.

These young, tender parts of mine carry shame, vulnerability, fragility, feelings of isolation and loneliness, and a sense of worthlessness related to my health challenges. Especially on days when I'm experiencing 'more than usual' suffering, I envision a young girl lying on a mattress, unable to do much besides rest. I reach out to her, placing a blanket over her and inviting her to rest in my arms. I stay by her side, reassuring her that I am with her. Unconditional love. It brings comfort to my entire being.

She belongs, as do all my parts—my family, my glorious and precious internal family.