As a kid, after growing up by the beach and having family members who had served, I thought being in the Coast Guard just sounded so cool. Until I realized that with my P.O.T.S, I would likely be unable to make it through physical training. My first job, working in fast food, seemed so easy- until my connective tissue condition, Hyper-mobile Spectrum Disorder, made every shift hours of sharp pains throughout my body. As my chronic illnesses have progressed, hanging out with friends has become a chore. Shopping at my favorite stores became a monumental task. A simple day of classes became a gauntlet to run. Working out became an impossible goal, and all I wanted to do was to curl up in my bed and pretend the real world wasn’t waiting on me.
But, Eventually, I moved past the mourning stage. The grief over my idealized future became background noise- a soft buzzing instead of a harsh roar. This was done mainly through a cycle of romanticization and distraction. Now, when you hear “romanticize your life”, you might start thinking about Instagram posts telling you that pretty notebooks, expensive pens, perfume, and dressing like the main character will make boring classes bearable, exhausting jobs fun, and obnoxious errands thrilling. But that’s not what I mean by romanticizing. I mean romanticizing your TIME.
Before bed, I make a list of everything I have to do the next day- including a few fun things. These are not optional- I include them with my regular chores. Just like washing the dishes keeps my home orderly, journaling or playing Stardew Valley or sewing or crafting keeps my MIND orderly. I make sure to shower on a tight schedule- which is hard with P.O.T.S, and something that I struggled deeply with for a long time- a constant battle between the P.O.T.S which said “I’m too tired for this”, my Major Depressive Disorder crying out “I can’t do this”, and my OCD yelling back “greasy hair is worse than a straight jacket”. But in the end, showering frequently has a lot more power than you might think- and a hot shower after a long day is not only good for my friends with certain joint conditions like HSD, but also is just good for your brain in my opinion. And it doesn’t have to stop at a shower- sometimes just braiding your hair, or putting on a comfortable, cute set of pajamas, can make flare-up days feel just a little bit better. I might not feel like I can get out of bed- but I feel cute. I feel like myself. I feel like a person, not a diagnosis. I might not be able to run for more than about a minute without being in pain, I might not be able to take a hot shower without feeling dizzy, and I might be in pain every day- but I can still be creative. I can still be me. And nobody can take that from me.
Leave a Reply