Laments and Lessons – Chronic Illness and Self-Care

By: JANA GREENE

I try to keep my content positive, but you know, sometimes we just need to bitch about reality, since life continues to be so real and at times, really hard.

And since I’m writing about life in general – the good, the bad, and the ugly, today’s topic is My Shitty Health. Consider it a little vent sesh about struggling with chronic illness. So, really fun content, I know. But perhaps you struggle with health issues too? You are not alone, friend.

Friday night was my pumpkin-turned-carriage moment as a person with chronic illness. My husband treated me to my favorite fancy restaurant for a delicious dinner.. I had the energy to go, and the ability to EAT and digest, even (which sounds like a given, but is not for me.)

Toward the end of dinner, I started feeling puny, and by Saturday lunchtime, I was sick as a dog. My carriage turned pumpkin before I even had time to lose my glass slipper. Dadgum it, here we go again.

Apparently, I picked up a sinus / respiratory bug, and it’s kicking my booty. Part of my plethora health-related genetic mutations is that my immune system sucks.

And ANYTIME I’m functionally sick, my body responds to it with an attack of major inflammation, which causes my systemic pain to skyrocket. So I’m stuffy and coughing, and the coughing subluxes my ribs. This is no fun at ALL.

Also, I’m sad and disappointed. You see, we missed the John Crist comedy show last night, and we’ve I’ve had the tickets for MONTHS. It’s my birthday week (the 24th) so we had all kinds of fun stuff planned this weekend and week, none of which is happening now. And

I’m trying to be a good sport. I am grateful for all the blessings I so richly enjoy in this life, and I take nothing for granted – not even digesting. I realize so many others are fighting so much worse with illness and injury. I get that.

Like anyone who battles chronic illness, I miss out on things. And by proxy, my husband misses out too. The worst occasion was the time I missed the wedding of a young lady you is like family to me. I just couldn’t rally, and it made me so sad.

So as I lay here, salty about being ill, I’m going to what my therapist recommends, which is baby myself. “You know to expect pain flares and ‘down’ days,” she advises. “So plan on taking a self-care day when that happens.”

In other words, don’t fight it on those days. Lean into it as you would in taking care of anyone else. Comfy blankets, streaming movies, and writing. (Always with the writing, because it’s the only way I can get out of my own head.)

So, I eat nourishing food, sleep extra, and for Lord’s sake, let go. Letting go of unrealistic expectations is half the battle, and anger at my own body doesn’t help – it is doing the best that it can. .

If you struggle too, this is your reminder to take care of yourself during the bad days as you would take care of the people you love. Because you and I are worth the effort, even as the pain of hard days cohabits with the gratitude for good days.

When your carriage turns into a pumpkin, well…make pumpkin pie, I guess.

Blessed be, friends. Be kind to yourself today.

Spiritual

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January 17, 2024 Jana GreeneLeave a comment

Hello, Dear Readers.

Behold, I am starting a new thing!

Although I’ll still be posting here from time to time, I have fresh content at my new blog, “Words by Jana Greene.” I’d love to see you there! Thank you for all of your support over the years!

wordsbyjanagreene.com

Recovery · Spiritual

Still One Day at a Time – 23 Years and Counting

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By: JANA GREENE

Today I celebrate 23 years of continuous recovery from alcoholism. That’s 8,395 days. And I can finally look back on the woman I was with only compassion now. No bitterness or resentment. She was just trying to numb the pain and heal the trauma, she just picked an awful way to do it back then.

The whites of her eyes were yellowing.
Her body was starved for actual nutrients.
She thought drinking made her more “fun,” because it dulled her big personality and gave her false confidence.

Worst of all, She was not the mother she knew she could be. A less chaotic one. A clear-headed one.

She was terrified of a life without drinking.
So she did it afraid – quitting.
It was time.

I don’t know her so well anymore, but I love her still. She got me here, in spite of my own best efforts. She went to countless meetings, drank hundreds of cups of stale coffee, and got to know others just like herself. She found new coping mechanisms, built healthy relationships, and let her big personality out – all things that would be impossible in active addiction.

Twenty three years ago today, I didn’t pick up a drink. And the next day (when it rolled around and not a moment before,) I didn’t drink that day either. I only conquered one day at a time, and truthfully, that’s still how I do it.

Some days are a breeze to get through without drinking, and honestly, I rarely think of it anymore.

Other days, it tells me it’s my default setting. It tells me the physical pain is too hard to do sober, and who would blame me if I picked up?? (See? justifying…the oldest trick into book.) Half of a good recovery is calling yourself out on your own BS. The other half is learning to actually comfort, soothe, and cope without drinking.

But that’s the sneaky thing about addiction – the thing you think you need tells you you need MORE of it. I had to learn how to shush it without invalidating it – that voice.

Recovery has to be a way of life, otherwise it’s just NOT drinking. I had to unlearn a crap ton. Toxic behaviors and coping mechanisms don’t POOF! go away because I drink mocktails instead of cocktails. Nope. It’s work. I have to dig deep every day.

But I am so grateful for my recovery. It saved my life, made me whole, enabled authentic joy, and challenged me well beyond what I could handle.

Still only one day at a time, even though I’ve managed to string 8,395 of them together with faith, struggle; elation, and triumph.

And that’s a lot of corny words just to say I’m grateful as @&$%# to be alcohol-free.

I have been granted this amazing alternative life. It IS possible. We can and DO recover!