“The body is the healthy persons faithful ally. The healthy person is allowed to BE their body and they make use of this regularly. They ARE their body. Illness disturbs this assimilation. Our body becomes foreign to us.” ( The Psychology of the sick bed )
I have been accused of struggling with Gnosticism and while a quick google search shows me I am NOT Gnostic - I can see the merit in that observation. My medical history has had its share of trauma (in my twenties I went through many humiliations at hospitals. I’ve tried multiple avenues of healing. For the most part I’m over it but every once in awhile…)
With chronic illness and my regular symptoms (exhaustion/ overwhelming random pain/ gastro pain and symptoms etc) it often feels like my body betrayed/ betrays me. If I suddenly experienced a “regular” illness on top of normal symptoms the pain is exaggerated . In turn it’s been normal for me to dissociate from my body when it begins symptoms of illness or when I’m in a flare. ( See THIShttps://aboutibd.com/category/podcast/ podcast for more about PTSD or PTS in chronic conditions.)
“This feels like an assault - this is dirty, bad, gross, I’m unattractive… the list goes on with certain procedures.” ( enimas, barium’s, stool tests etc) “With medical PTS you can be over utilizers or under utilizers of the medical system due to this.” (Taken from HERE)
I used to be an over user of the medical system in my twenties which often made my life worse in general. Now I’m an under user. I actively avoid medical situations whenever possible. It didn’t help that my Grandma lived with us and lived with multiple surgeries, pain, pouches and pouch infections and hospital stays that I witnessed from the time I was little. I was sick constantly as a child due to multiple illnesses. I had undiagnosed autism and the sensory / undiagnosed celiac (I haven’t touched gluten in over 14 years and don’t miss the extreme sickness that eased after year two of avoidance) / anemia and heavy periods from age 12 onwards/ undiagnosed fibromyalgia pain and diagnosed IBS … which was the only answer at the time the Drs. could give me. In fact, I recently requested IBS was taken off my chart as I know I have it, but when Drs. take notice that’s usually all they blame. It becomes the focus and most times that is not the reason I am in their office. However, out of all my chronic conditions, GI issues cause the most pain, humiliation and invasive procedures (more so than the multiple reproductive issues and procedures I had.)
“Learning how to be in your body without wanting to scream and run away.” Source
I laughed when the podcast suggested couples therapy with one’s own body: that actually sounds helpful. I find that generally healthy individuals have a tough time understanding this concept. My husband is healthy. He has watched me go through many years of procedures, pain and suffering. He has been my advocate and my ally. Yet, he still can’t fully comprehend why, at the first sign of a gastrointestinal illness I check out. He doesn’t fully comprehend why I can’t just allow myself in gratitude to have fellowship with my body on most days. He doesn’t understand my crippling low self esteem when I’m dealing with a new symptom. He doesn’t understand why I feel I always need to be prepared (shaved/ looking put together/ clean) in case I’m taken to the hospital. He is aware that it’s a constant battle for me, he often mentions my strength and endurance, but he is baffled why I can’t just accept a flu bug for what it is and move on easily.
After all, that’s what he does.
He doesn’t have lingering flare ups for months after. It doesn’t trigger unpleasant memories of being in his body while he was picked at and prodded or getting ready in the cold surgery room. He doesn’t have memories of being so sick with no end in sight of relief and no answers from medical staff. He can’t comprehend my knowledge of most antibiotic names and side effects or pain meds because he wasn’t tied to an IV multiple times for over a decade. He doesn’t understand that even in sickness I have to look calm and logical because I had a history of most Drs. blaming pain on me and anxiety instead of looking into actual causes. This in turn made me distrust myself even when I was right. It also contributed to my dissociation with my body. He doesn’t fight sensory problems unless he has a migraine. If I was him - I wouldn’t fully understand either. No one likes to be sick or have the stomach virus but for people who already deal with daily gastrointestinal pain and issues - it can feel like a dragon is setting fire to an already charred house.
I’ve been told I handle death astoundingly well… in conjunction with darker human emotions. I don’t think I would handle the death of my immediate family well to be honest. However, it’s true that I have a certain steel when I need to step up and help someone else through grief or through the journey of the unknown. But in myself? I bury my grief deep. Deep down where the humiliation and shame of my body live, my grief knots itself into tiny barbs. These try to re surface when I’m sick with an unknown virus. It can take me days to recover mentally once my body recovers. Books or movies that normally would only bother me a bit, suddenly create a chasm of confusion and anxiety. I suddenly drown in an outpouring of emotion and stand confused as a few tears slip down my face. Shocked at my leaking eyes I think, “Uh oh K you don’t understand yourself again. Your body is leaking emotion. Disassociate more. Don’t encompass the pain or you’ll break. Compartmentalize! Deal! Move on! Serve others in your pain! Don’t over share … oh you already did? You sent that emotional text? Joke about it. Retract! Retreat! Send a strong message next time or serve a need for them next. Don’t be a burden in your pain. You tend to verbally over process in distress. Picture yourself outside yourself.”
It sounds insane on paper but this post is probably for the people who understand this type of insanity. You both ARE and ARE not just your body. Just like we ARE and ARE NOT our emotions. We are Spirit and Flesh. We are Imago Dei. We are the beauty of humanity… of course, of course, but we also still have to grapple with trauma, betrayal, the unknown, pain, and misery.
I admire people with chronic illness because they are coping with all the hardships of normal life while being housed in an instrument that doesn’t always work. They have to walk the fine line of not allowing the pain and trauma to define them, but also not ignoring their body’s cues for exercise or rest or nutrition. They have to push through pain to BE. But they also have to acknowledge limitations. They won’t always be understood and most of the time their suffering will be unspoken so they can live their best lives without the spotlight of another’s judgement. They are heroes of their own ecosystem that consistently tries to undermine them. They are broken but generally this makes them healers for others because of their relationship to pain. They tend to be seekers of the spiritual truths… because at least that isn’t fully defined by their body. ( Thus the accusation of Gnosticism depending on that degree.) They live without full healing but are so grateful for any tiny easement of pain.
They are the ones reaching for the hem of His garment. They are often the ones who cry out, “Rapha! Healer! Please Be here.” They can often be the ones who catch glimpses of God so clearly. In suffering Christ is there. At the toilet bowl when all else fades into the background. In the bed when pain is so great they are curled into a ball. On their knees begging for understanding when a scary new symptom surfaces. Stopping to breathe Yahweh - in and out. God is in the breath. God IS the breath. God is in the next right thing. God is suffering alongside. God comforts in strange ways. Mystery unfolds. Pain sufferers tend to have a tentative grasp with mystery. God speaks quietly. God holds and sometimes he even heals … though not often in the way we think. Despite that God IS. We are Imago Dei. We, though terribly broken and often in confused pain, are also beautiful precious vessels of unique BEING. It may not always be the answers we want but it’s the answer that IS. It’s that moment on the Chosen (season three) when the bleeding woman reaches so desperately for the hem of Jesus garment. It’s when he turns and asks her to speak for herself so he can acknowledge her and claim her as daughter. It’s the image of that story that mirrors the biblical account and shows the desperation and beauty of being SEEN in all humiliation, isolation, misunderstanding, misery and pain. We are not alone. Even in suffering. Don’t lose hope.
Song choice : hallelujah Even Here - Lydia Laird: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jc-WPCQs6RI
If anything take the song below from this post:
I adore this song!: Mother to A Saviour and King (obviously I’m not Mary but the tone of this song - the searching/ seeking/ choosing to still believe and follow/ being Known… that’s relatable. I also find it incredibly beautiful and vulnerable and my eyes fill up each time I watch her singing in that stunning orange dress in nature to God.)https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=s6qN8PMKGcY
Bonus: the most touching commercial I’ve seen in a long time: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=xnZGEUA4oBk
Post script: when my husband was running my healing bath I asked him to put on my Spotify playlist called When I Can’t Love Myself … he started chuckling and responded, “yes my enneagram Four.” And then I realized yea I guess that could come across as having a flair for the dramatic … I just call it normal - it sounded like the right title at the time ! Ha ha