Empathy, Chronic Illness, and a Pandemic
When the world first shut down in March of 2020, I guess I assumed that my chronic illness would become more manageable. I lied to myself. Working from home all day every day is NOT an appropriate treatment plan for Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (POTS).
Now that the drive and discipline of a pandemic newcomer have worn off, I can actually honestly admit how difficult this year has been on both my body and my mind. Perhaps you, like me, developed a stringent plan and strategy for self-care when this all began. I was determined to regulate my sleep schedule, eat healthier, exercise (preferably outdoors) for a certain amount of minutes each day. What a joke! Sure, the world is going haywire — let’s add in a whole new lifestyle that will completely jack up your body’s rhythm! Unfortunately, my idea did not make all the world’s problems go away. Nor did it lead to effective self-care. Instead, I have grown into a different rhythm, one much more reliant on grace than control.
If there’s anything my chronic illness has taught me, it’s that I am not a robot. In fact, the main characteristic of POTS is the dysfunction of the autonomic nervous system. All those things your body is supposed to do automatically: regulate heart rate, digest and metabolize food, adjust the internal thermostat based on weather changes? Yeah…my body doesn’t like to do those things. In fact, I have to take steroids just so that my body retains liquids so that my blood volume doesn’t plummet. Change is just about the worst thing when dealing with POTS.
While I expected to get a significant amount of rest during my days at home, I found myself more exhausted than ever. Though I was placing less physical stress on my body, my chronic pain skyrocketed. My appetite was thrown so off-kilter, half the time I felt like a hormonal pregnant lady. And every routine I tried failed in the end because, let’s face it, the whole world has changed every week or so. Routines are not especially plausible during a global pandemic (plus election year).
My double-edged sword is that I am also an empath. I feel EVERYTHING. If someone is in a bad mood, it eats at me all day and into the night. It haunts my dreams and is with me when I wake up. The year 2020 has brought a lot of empaths out of the woodwork. We are carrying the weight of the world on our shoulders, and we cannot escape it. Everywhere we turn, we are reminded that things aren’t right. Not only has COVID ransacked the globe, but it seems at least in the US that there is a new crisis every month or so. Tear gas, shattered business windows, beatings in the street, gunfire, evictions, bigotry, racism, the elderly dying alone, young children without their parents…and these are only the tip of the iceberg. Feeling and connecting with each of these experiences, grieving over the injustices, has taken its toll.
The one thing that has gotten me through this year with all its endless twists and turns (aside from my roommate’s dog who has tried to snuggle me to death regularly) is grace. I have to give myself grace. This year is not normal. There is a lot about it that isn’t right. And it is okay that I am not a total health guru because of it. It is okay that I need to take naps, and sometimes order a pizza rather than go to the natural grocery store. (As a side note, one of the best treatments for POTS is to eat a ton of sodium…so pizza is actually justified). It is okay that I feel weighted down, even discouraged. I don’t need to have my life together right now, when the whole world is falling apart.
It has taken almost ten months to realize the importance of grace in my life. To release myself of the pressure of being this-or-that. Some days are hard, some days are painful, some days are filled with tears, and that is just fine. That is part of being human, part of feeling the collective stress and hardship of this year. Aspects of my life that are typically a challenge are now exponentially more so. As I give myself grace, I have found a rhythm that agrees much better with my soul, one that ebbs and flows rather than being rigid and militaristic. When I am tired, I allow myself to rest, because that is what I need. And it is okay.
If you have had a difficult year like me (which I would guess is at LEAST 90% of us), please offer yourself this same grace that I have found. One day we will look back on 2020 as a year of incredible growth, strength, change. But for now, we need to take care of ourselves so that we can look back some day. Listen to your body, listen to your heart. Nurture yourself. And order a pizza — seriously.
