Today is supposed to be Wonderful Wednesday and I am feeling anything but that. All of last week’s activities and preparations for Christmas have finally caught up with me. Somehow a mountain of laundry has piled up so I’m pushing through that today but my plans to take down the Christmas decorations will have to wait.
Those of you who deal with chronic pain illnesses will be able to relate to what I’m going through this week. We force ourselves to do what has to be done (and more), knowing full well that there will be payback. That’s what this week is all about for me.
I am absolutely not complaining though, just stating the facts.
I think we spend so much time putting on a happy face that we’re afraid to show how we really feel so as not to worry those around us. Maybe we don’t want people to think we’re wimps. Or whiners. Or—dare I say the dreaded “H” word?—hypochondriacs.
The thing most people don’t realize is that many of us with chronic pain illnesses have Type A personalities. According to Wikipedia,
People with Type A personalities are often high-achieving “workaholics” who multi-task, push themselves with deadlines, and hate both delays and ambivalence.
I used to pretty much fit that definition in the old days, except that I also enjoyed the times when I could just sit and read. What used to take me a few hours back then now has to be done in stages, sometimes taking days to complete, because of all the in-between rest stops.
It took me years to come to terms with my “new normal” and I’ve only recently begun to understand that I am not what I can or cannot accomplish. I am not any of my illnesses. I am simply me, living a different stage of life.
Sometimes—like this week—that means survival mode, which in my new normal language translates to doing the minimum around the house and resting as much as possible. I have learned the hard way that I cannot ignore what my overtaxed bod is telling me: rest, rest, rest!
So that’s what this Type A is doing this week, which may likely continue into next week. All typical new normal stuff for me.
Though the fig tree should not blossom,
nor fruit be on the vines,
the produce of the olive fail
and the fields yield no food,
the flock be cut off from the fold
and there be no herd in the stalls,
yet I will rejoice in the LORD;
I will take joy in the God of my salvation.
Praising the Lord anyway…