There are insurmountable challenges when living with chronic illness. The constant, excruciating pain. The neverending fatigue that even the longest night’s sleep refuses to fix. The endless anxiety of never knowing when symptoms will strike next, leaving you incapable of doing well, anything. But one challenge is often overlooked. And that challenge is the ability to love yourself. No, loving yourself isn’t easy when chronically ill.
"The constant, excruciating pain. The neverending fatigue that even the longest night's sleep refuses to fix. The endless anxiety of never knowing when symptoms will strike. No, loving yourself isn't easy when chronically ill." Share on XIt is easy to love yourself when things are going well, and the road ahead lies ample opportunities. The future looks bright and promising, and one which you cannot wait to explore. But all these carefully mapped-out-plans suddenly become rewritten by our bodies. The body that we thought we knew implicitly suddenly becomes something we no longer recognise. Our body is no longer a source of comfort and familiarity, but instead is now a strange, unfamiliar vessel that we loathe. It becomes a prison, holding us captive. A sentence which we are unable to escape, and which we must endure.
It may have been easy to love ourselves before the invasion of chronic illness, but it becomes increasingly difficult with it now a permanent part of our everyday life.
Why Is It Hard to Love Yourself When Living With a Chronic Illness?
It is hard to love a body when you can no longer recognise it as your own. After illness comes into your life, your body no longer feels like it once did. Nor does it work like it once did. The body once a friend now an enemy intent on making your life a misery. How can we love a body that is continually tormenting us?
"Your body no longer feels like it once did. Nor does it work like it once did. The body once a friend now an enemy intent on making your life a misery. How can we love a body that is continually tormenting us?" Share on XIt isn’t easy to love your body when it is continually reminding us that it’s flawed and wrecked with constant, debilitating pain. The first sensation I feel upon waking is intense, throbbing pain, and it is also the last thing I perceive before I go to sleep. If I am lucky to fall asleep, that is. However, more often than not, such intense, crippling pain keeps me awake all night, which those in the chronic illness community call painsomnia.
"It isn't easy to love your body when it continually reminds you that it's flawed and wrecked with constant, debilitating pain. It is challenging to love a body that lets you down and prevents you from living a 'normal' life." Share on XIn the morning, when I look in the mirror, all I can observe as I study my reflection is the extremely ashen complexion of my skin and the strikingly dark circles under my eyes. These two features make me look as tired and unwell as I feel. Even applying the best concealer I own does little to disguise the too dark circles under my eyes, or improve my complexion. Still, I look sick, affecting my self-esteem and becoming increasingly unconfident over my physical appearance.
It is challenging to love the part of your body that continually lets you down and prevents you from living a ‘normal’ life.
No, Loving Yourself Isn’t Easy When Chronically Ill
I hate my legs the most of any part of my body. They are the part of my body that hurts the most. I can no longer trust them as they frequently collapse from under me with no warning. As a result, I no longer feel safe in my own body, and it is a constant source of anxiety and worry. It is also beyond frustrating when my body refuses to go along with my plans.
"I no longer feel safe in my own body, and it is a constant source of anxiety and worry. It is also beyond frustrating when my body refuses to go along with my plans." Share on XI feel self-conscious as I stumble around as my legs tremble beneath me. A gait similar to that of a drunk person; I feel people’s stares in judgment or puzzlement.
The constant failings of my body is a continual reminder that I am not in control of it, but instead am at the mercy of my own body.
"The constant failings of my body is a continual reminder that I am not in control of it, but instead am at the mercy of my own body." Share on XWith my legs and mobility worsening, I have become reliant on mobility aids to get around. Something that often makes me feel embarrassed and insecure. As I look around, I fail to see anyone else my age also needing such aids. I am unsuccessful in seeing myself or my experiences of living with a neurological disorder and disability reflected in the books, television programmes or films I surround myself with while trying to fill the void of my isolation. It often makes me question where, and even if I belong. As I feel I don’t belong, I struggle to make friends because it affects my self-worth and self-esteem. Just another reason why it can be a struggle to love myself.
"I can't see myself or my experiences of living with a neurological disorder reflected in the books, television programmes or films I surround myself with, making me question where, and even if I belong." Share on XIt Isn’t Easy to Love a Body That Holds You Back; Unable To Become The Person You Want To Be
It isn’t easy to love a body that holds you back. I had so many dreams and aspirations when I was young. I dreamed of a career as a psychologist, aspirations of travelling a little more, and perhaps marriage and children later on in life. But when my health deteriorated such dreams and aspirations seemingly became unreachable. And things that once were easy and now much more difficult due to the severity of the symptoms. Left, being unable to do very much by myself, leaves me feeling incredibly unproductive and worthless, to be honest. I feel trapped in the prison of my body, forced to endure painful and uncomfortable bodily sensations, feeling ashamed of how little I have achieved so far in my life.
"I feel trapped in the prison of my body, forced to endure painful and uncomfortable bodily sensations, feeling ashamed of how little I have achieved so far in my life." Share on XLiving a life in which I cannot do much, I always worry that I and my life are incredibly dull. With the inability to go out by myself, books, films and television programmes have become a passport to the outside world. With little experience or excitement, much of my conversations become focused on what I’ve read or seen. I worry that I have become boring, and is how I come across to others.
Trying To Not Let Chronic Illness Rob Me of Self-Love
Chronic illness has stolen so much from me, but I have also allowed it to rob me of self-love. But perhaps I have been looking at myself and my body all wrong. I have only been able to see what illness has taken from me. But as much it has taken, it has also given. When it feels the hardest, I should acknowledge all that my body can still do for me. At times, during a severe flare, it can feel that my entire body is failing I should shift my focus onto those parts that still are working.
"Chronic illness has stolen so much from me, but I have also allowed it to rob me of self-love." Share on XI also need to remind myself that my distance from the world does not make me less, but instead gives me a unique perspective on life. When faced with the worst in life, you can appreciate and value the small pleasures in life, and because of it, we choose to be as good as we can to the world and those in it.
To combat the worthlessness and self-blame that chronic illness invokes, I instead need to embrace self-love. That means accepting myself and my illness despite wishing things were different. It also means yielding self-compassion when unable to do x, y or z and celebrating those times I can. As Whitney Houston once sang, “Learning to love yourself/Is the greatest love of all.”
"I need to accept myself and my illness despite wishing things were different. As Whitney Houston once sang, "Learning to love yourself/Is the greatest love of all." Share on X