There are many things you can forgive your body for, but there are moments, relationships, days in life you miss which you will never get back, unforgettable, unforgivable events you are denied in the face of disability. My body is broken, and she continues to break my heart.
This is how those of us with chronic diseases struggle so deeply to have “self love.” Trapped inside bodies that attack us, and hearts which shoulder the guilt of our loved one’s pain from the hurt our illnesses have caused- child, love thyself. Love your abuser. Forgive the one which harms those you love the most. Forgive, forgive, forgive….
Body, you have taken my choices from me all of my adult life. Body, you are the abusive relationship I have never been able to flee. Body, you have stolen my health, my career, fun, freedom… my dreams. No permission was granted to you, yet you take all you touch. You are a jealous, volatile disease, and you only care about your own needs. I have suffered abuse and trauma at the hands of doctors on your account, though, you still batter me without compassion. I’ve been abandoned and made to feel worthless, INVISIBLE because of you body; I’ve had enough of your games!
Body, I break up with you. Sorry, not sorry.
I tear you from my soul and leave you. I will still care for you, because I am obligated. I am bound to you in ways I cannot choose, but I will no longer adore you. I will not call you my own. We are committed to one another, but I turn my back to you, body. From here on out, you will be “Body” and I will go forward being Me.
This is my self love. This is my self compassion. This is my choice.
I rage against your victimization. Your assault on my essence is over. I choose to make my life despite you, in spite of you!
I choose, I choose, I choose.
My flesh and bone surrenders, but my spirit rises up! Your reign, your emotional and psychological torture is over. Call it dissociation, call it compartmentalizing, call it what you will- it IS a detachment, and it is necessary.
I sign the papers and I box up your things. You can live in the basement and I will now and forevermore preside upstairs, in charge of THIS HOUSE.
Sign here X _________________
Please support Rare Disease Day on February 29th. www.rarediseaseday.us
After many years of pain I then came on a time of suffering so unforgiving, it appeared my body would not make it out alive. But finally, I feel an awakening is upon me. In some ways, I believe my brain is renewing itself.
The putrid smell and taste of physical rottenness dissipated. The illness and ongoing pain have not left me by any means whatsoever, yet over this past year I have felt a change occurring inside of my mind. Maybe a transformation.
I did not realize how large a gap I had put between myself and my body these past years. I suppose the traumas experienced under medical care contributed to my drifting. My complete and sudden loss of physical independence surely didn’t help. However, there was no crueler attacker than my own body. To endure this unending physical pain and other debilitating maladies, I must have cut so many ties between me and my lump of person. To live under a physical betrayal so strong you realize no sense of personal willpower can guide the outcome- was an enormous blow. The only way to survive it was to drift beyond my physical self.
~Free My Self~
After the damage to my brain.
After disengaging from my great betrayer: my body.
After the pain went from unspeakable to so immeasurable,
I could no longer speak.
After there were doctors who were unafraid
to use uninvited hands on my body in its weakened state.
After family members had to dress and clean my flesh.
Yes, “my self” liberated from “my body.”
It had to, you see?
This recent awakening began with feeling present again. And new creative thoughts and senses followed. More than my only thoughts, “just breathe, drink, eat.” After years of survival alone, something new surfaced, like a tiny green sprout pushing its way through heavy concrete.
For the past few years, eating has been an uncomfortable challenge and chore. Although I have little appetite, I notice the smell of foods with a new curiosity. And my tastes have changed. I favor different foods and savor scents, flavors and textures I never enjoyed before.
All of my life I have been a sort of “Tom Boy.” Collecting bugs and rocks as a child, preferring to play outside with boys, spending far less time thinking of my appearance than most girls and women it has seemed. The only lotions or perfumes I own have been gifts. But coming into this renewal of myself, I have become acutely aware of my skin. For so long I didn’t have any connection to my flesh-I have even detested it in some ways. The betrayal, the dying, stinking body I could feel slipping away from this world. But it fought. It held onto life! And now, I dab a scented lotion onto my living body in appreciation. I inhale the mild fragrance all day knowing I am the bearer of this pleasant lingering smell.
When did my eyes become attracted to jewel tones like fuchsia and purple? I long to shop for clothes and home decor some day. What!? This is unlike me altogether. Then, as I practice my handwriting, it appears much more feminine than before (my scribble used to be a family joke). Reuniting with my body has brought about a womanly change in me. And I do feel different. Aware of new things. So much has occurred; I don’t think I can go ever back to being that person I used to be. I may as well transform into someone new.
My brain is making connections and is attempting to make friends with my flesh once again. Obviously, there are some new connections, as well. It is challenging to make friends with a body that constantly bites back, but some friendships are difficult yet still rewarding, right? I’m learning a lot about Neuroplasticity and how much the brain renews itself. I hope in time I will be making even more transformations. Who knows what other discoveries I will make along the way and what new connections I might find.
Please visit her enchanting shops of original prints and leather goods to purchase something beautiful for your home or gifts!
This entry has been included in The Spoonie Daily online magazine!
Below is a serious post from a woman blogger in pain and above it is my comment to her:
I’m so sorry you are living this. I know you feel completely alone and isolated. I’m so proud of you for telling your story and sharing what no one wants to say. What we are so scared to share. This is the TRUTH about chronic illness and chronic pain and the gravity of it.
You are giving people a voice. I’m so scared you will stop. I don’t know if you believe in faith, but I AM PRAYING FOR YOU in this moment in time. That you know how important you are. That you hear me tell you that your words and your pain do not isolate you, it INCLUDES you with women who live it and need your courage to say what you are saying.
That we don’t want life to end, we want the pain to end. We want the fear to end. Insurance for a future life- of this ONE life. I could never convince you of that concrete insurance that your body will feel better.
But I can promise you that chronic illness, pain, depression: they are liars, liars, LIARS!
Tomorrow anything can change. Please, I hope you are here for it.
Saturday night, I overdosed. And here it is Tuesday morning, and I’m still barely able to function. I can’t spell basic words without a lot of thought, and I nearly pass out when I get up to go to the bathroom.
I’m not sure if I wanted to kill myself or not. I was at least half-dissociated, so I don’t even know how many pills I took. (Or, for that matter, which one[s] of us took them.)
I think I wanted either to die or to make someone notice that something is very very wrong. But I ended up not accomplishing either of those things. So I feel like a failure in every possible way.
I feel like I NEED someone to take care of me. To hug me and tell me it’s all going to be okay, to listen when I’m freaking out, to take care of all the…
View original post 608 more words