It's not over til it's over

It's time to write again. Tonight I went out to a social event with some people I've known for a while and others who were new to me. It brought up stuff, thyroid and illness related stuff.

I haven't written here about my thyroid much lately; I'm not too sure why, maybe I'm sick of talking about it? Maybe I think I should stop talking about it, let it go and focus on other more positive things. The problem with that is that it's not over, it's not over 'til it's over. The journey of what it is to be unwell is continuing. I am now experiencing symptoms of an underactive thyroid due to my medication for the overactivity. I am having 3 weekly blood tests to keep an eye on things, hopefully soon I will be off medication and my thyroid will function 'normally'. People think that being physically sick is the only problem with illness. That's a myth, there is so much more to deal with than one would imagine.

When you've been sidelined for 9 months of your life, made a forced resignation from your job, spent 2-3 months at your parents place (300km from your life,friends & partner), lost 15kg (and put 4 back on), lost fitness and muscle strength and struggled to maintain self-confidence at times- well your life looks and feels really differently to anything you have ever known.

Once you've been so unwell that you dread hairwashing day because it's too long to have to stand for in the shower, your perspective changes. When you've been so unwell that driving yourself around the corner to the Dr's is a new and exciting achievement- your view of your life and what it's all about changes. When you have lay in bed day after day, week after week wondering why you can't get out of it without feeling horrifically lightheaded, anxious and exhausted-your reasons for wanting to live and to be healthy, they change.

I haven't come across alot of people who can say that they identify with my experience; but I know that chronic and debilitating illness has affected many. It's quite likely that because I'm in my 20's I have far fewer people in my life who have been chronically ill.

So when I meet someone who I don't know or don't know really well and they ask what I do for work, at the moment I have to tell them 'I do nothing'. It is a strange and unexpected answer to most. Therefore I follow up with an attempt at explaining briefly why I don't have a job right now. I often tell them what I used to do, to satisfy their curiosity about the 'type' of person I might be. We all know that asking someone's profession or line of work helps us to think that we know them better, somehow.

I must admit that I really hate telling people that I do 'nothing' and following up with the story of illness. I never wanted to be the person who had that story. But I do and that's not going to change, even as my circumstances change, I will always have the story.

I hate sympathy and telling sad stories, I like to talk about other stuff. My story usually elicits some confusion and sometimes sympathy, depending on how I tell it. When I say I had an overactive thyroid, most people don't really know what that means. I can choose to give a basic overview or go into the particular effects it had on me and my life. When I do this I begin to feel like I'm eliciting sympathy (or not making sense) and it's around this point where I wish the story wasn't true...and most definitely wasn't mine to tell. One of the most frustrating things though, to be really honest, is that people just don't 'get it'. How could you really understand unless you'd been there and seen it first hand or experienced it?

Being so seriously ill was truly my own personal experience of hell, I reffered to being in my own personal hell for many many months. It was the worst time of my life, the hardest time. I don't want to get all optimistic right now, cos I am over that for today, but it was also the hugest learning curve of my life and I am really grateful for that- there have been many blessings in the disguise of illness. Unfortunately I feel unbalanced because I so often share the positives and I feel like I am not being honest to myself when I focus on the light rather than allow the shadow some air time. People like to say 'be positive' and they also like positivity in general; well I am! But sometimes you can be way too positive and everyone thinks you're more well than you seem. I always do my best to come across as well as I can, to be as positive as I can, to be as happy as I can. 99% of the time this works for me and I prefer this approach; but it needn't be at the detriment of not acknowledging the crap or not fully allowing those close to me to see what my true experience of this illness is.

If you've had a similar experience to me please do leave a comment. Also, if you have never had such an experience, your thoughts are much appreciated- I won't hold good health against you :-)

On a brighter note, you might enjoy my new web-site Inner Beam.

Resignation...and letting go

One of my readers recently sent me a lovely e-mail sharing her story about her experience with thyroid disease. She asked me about how I managed my work situation back in May (being too unwell to work & consequently resignation). Blog posts from around this time in April and May can be found at Inner Beam; however at the time I didn’t write specifically about how I managed the experience of resigning from my job. I may not have even used the word resignation in the entire blog. Perhaps because it was quite a traumatic experience and at the time I was just trying to cope with what was happening and how unwell I felt. At the time I resigned I felt like the job was taken from me; not by the organisation, but by a higher power or something. I felt as if I’d had the rug pulled out from under my feet with my health and life up in the air. I had been crashing slowly over many months; but when I finally could not go on anymore; when I could barely get out of bed, that was when I stopped going to work.

Here's some background of what was going on in the months leading up to my resignation: I had been in the job, a management role, for only three months. However I had been with the organisation for just over two years. In January I moved house and began a new job in a new location within the space of 4 days.

In hindsight that is NEVER a good idea. Both are stressful experiences, even if they might be enjoyable or positive, change places stress on our system for some time as we adapt. My new drive to work was an hour in heavy traffic; disgusting. I absolutely hated the drive and couldn’t believe what I’d done, yet I didn’t regret moving house or the new job, I just wished the two were closer together.

So there I was, in a new role, with a big job ahead of me, it was a development role with a not for profit organisation and there weren’t great resources. I was also the only one doing my particular role, I was to employ others to help in time. Every night when I got home I thought about work, I had trouble getting to sleep because I was thinking about work. Even when I spent time with friends or my partner I would either be talking about work or thinking about it. I felt overwhelmed by what was expected of me, the faith that others put in me scared me even more- funny that, but it did. I had never really done much of what was required of me in the role; I had experience as a social worker with people or communities presenting their issues to you and then working with them to try to resolve them; but I did not know where to start when there were no ‘clients’ in front of me.

I began to dread each day, I also felt some dread at the thought of the national and international travel that would be integral to my role. Every day I got to work feeling weak and tired, sometimes anxious. I recall telling my boss that I found I wasn’t feeling truly awake until after 10am, I didn’t feel like my usual friendly self. I recalled that in my previous job I had only 10 minutes to travel to work and I would usually arrive ready for the day and feeling friendly. In hindsight I had some very real clues that something wasn’t right. I decided that it was all in my head and that I had to keep on pushing. I think that the more I denied the reality that this job just wasn’t working for me and that my body was really struggling the more anxious I got.

Just over two months had passed and I returned home from a work trip to Sydney feeling awful, I didn’t know what was wrong with me, but I felt weak, fatigued, had lost my appetite and was experiencing high anxiety as well as dizziness. I tried to just lay low for the weekend. Come Monday I called in sick. I think it was during this week that I saw a GP. Many tests were run and no answers were found. Yes, my TSH (thyroid stimulating hormone) was checked. No clues there. I have since found out that thyroid imbalance symptoms often exist well before it will be indicated in the blood. Two weeks later I still felt awfully weak and unwell, so I headed off to the country to stay with my sister for the weekend and to see a holistic health practitioner who uses a bio-feedback machine. I struggled to sit on the chair during my appointment because I was feeling so weak and depleted.

In the two weeks I'd been really unwell I actually managed to work from home in the second week; so I technically only had one week off sick. During that second week that I pushed through and worked I rested a lot on the couch. I really struggled to get through, and could definitely not have made it in to the office. I guess it was my determination that got me through, because as I look back now I think I was crazy to be trying to work and I can recall just how awful I felt.

On the Sunday afternoon that I was due to return to Melbourne (in order to be back in the office the next day) I felt awful and tired and could not cope with the thought of the trip back, let alone the reality that I would have to go into the office the next morning. The thought of my workmates expecting me to return in good health was horrifying, my state of health was so poor, I felt so weak and fatigued. I knew that as desperate as i was for things to be ok, returning to work was not going to happen. I was far from well, I was barely able to go into the supermarket with my sister because I felt so awful and out of it. The thought of returning to work had me in tears; it was around this time that I think I became consciously aware that my job stress was impacting significantly on my health. I also realised that it was unlikely that I would get well if I was only doing it to get back to my job. I could feel my entire being screaming to leave the job, to be free of it, it had been for some time, but I just couldn’t hear because I did not want to know.

On the Monday morning I called my boss and told him where I was and that I was still sick, I explained that I thought I needed a month off to get well and I still wasn’t sure what was going on with me; the only thing I could liken the feeling to was Glandular Fever (I had GF when I was 18). I stayed with my sister for four days until I missed my boyfriend so much that I just had to get back. Before I departed my sister's I warned him that I needed my dinner cooked for me and just needed a lot of rest. He accepted that and I made the 5 hour train trip to get back to him. He greeted me with gluten free spaghetti bolognese, as requested by moi, it was so good to be back to him.

 I stayed in regular contact with my boss, who I had and still have a great relationship with. He requested to meet with me only a week and a half into my ‘month off’ for my 3 month review. I knew that he wanted some answers and I made the really tough decision to resign from the position, because I knew that I could not promise him I would be returning full of energy at the end of the month. He needed this guarantee to grant me the continued leave. Resigning at that point was the best thing I could have done. It was a huge huge weight off my shoulders. That afternoon I felt revived and more energetic than I had in weeks. I met my friend at the local and we shared a bowl of wedges; life felt good.

That energy and sense of relief was to be short lived. The next day I went to stay with my parents and in those first few days with them the reality of what had happened hit me like a tonne of bricks . I think that in the first couple of days after I resigned I was in shock, because now I barely recall what happened. Soon enough the tears came and I started to feel the significance of what had occurred in the recent past. The pain was massive, it was something like heart break. I felt as if the job had been taken from me because of my health failing; I felt I'd had no real say in things, I felt like a victim of circumstance. I no longer see what happened in the same light, I am now grateful that I didn’t live that miserable stressed life, which was a lie, for another minute.

The next few weeks were tough, I came to many confronting realisations and worked to find acceptance of what had happened. I felt incredibly vulnerable and out of control. My health was still very poor, anxiety was high and energy was low. However it wasn't long before I was confident that the resignation was the right choice for me and gratitude crept in for the freedom and relief that leaving my job brought.

I’ve barely spoken about these few weeks of my life, I don’t think I've fully recounted the story to anyone; those who do know it were there for every step. To be very honest, the experience was heart breaking, to lose your health and job concurrently is really tough, but to walk away from an organisation you are passionate about and thought you’d be with for a very long time, that can break your heart.

I believe in the old adage that a problem shared is a problem halved; and that feeling like you're not alone is important for all of us; particularly during hard times. Therefore it is my intention that in visiting this blog you may feel a part of a community and that you are not alone. I hope that those of you who have experienced something similar, or are facing the challenge of walking away from something that is not conducive to your well-being, will draw strength from my story.

Here are my thoughts from earlier in the year, the many questions I asked of myself as I lay sick in bed which were the weeks prior to my decision to resign. http://innerbeam.blogspot.com/2010/04/in-sickness-and-in-health.html

Wishing you the greatest strength to make choices that serve you, that support your health and vitality and bring greater peace and harmony to your life.

If you have a question for me or would like to share your own experience, please leave a comment or send an e-mail to innerbeam@gmail.com

More grey than blue..practicing acceptance

I recently wrote a post about arriving in struggle town. It was about how crappy I was feeling. Interestingly the post took a positive turn as I explored things other than how poorly I felt. It took me to places I did not know I'd go; discussions of a future trip to France and my memories of how I came to fall in love with all things French.

Today I am also spending the day in somewhere like Struggle Town. A couple of things have happened that didn't feel great, or just a little uncomfortable. In my already unwell state the skies seemed to be more grey than blue today. I was nearly not going to write; why would you spread misery Sarah? I asked myself, how about today you just lie in bed and keep quiet?

Then I remembered my commitment to welcoming all that I experience, the good the bad and the ugly. Theoretically it's true, just that when I considered not writing I was really judging how I am negatively. Today feels something like 'bad' and I decided it was consequently 'ugly' and therefore I wouldn't be writing on my blog and exposing the ugliness. I like pretty nice things, blue skies, sunshine and butterflies.

It's a whole lot of judgment I placed upon myself on how I am in this very moment. I told myself not to write unless I had something positive to say; I couldn't be sure that I would. I find that I always want to put a positive spin on things, probably more for the sake of others than myself. This led me to decide that I wanted to honour the seemingly bad and ugly; because hiding this is to hide a part of my experience. I wouldn't expect others to hold back on the less pleasant aspects of their lives. I really like Ghandi's 'Be the change you wish to see in the world'. Today I am.

I want to see people being honest about it all. I want for people who don't feel well to be able to say it, experience it and not run away from it. Speaking of running away, you should have seen what I did last night! It was certainly not the first time I did it, but it was the first time that my own awareness caught me. I was feeling something, really feeling. I was really missing my boyfriend. It hurt. I picked up my phone and sent a text, then I picked up the computer and logged on to all my communication gadgets- facebook, twitter etc. I just wanted to escape the feeling, I hated feeling it and I knew I could distract myself. I managed to temporarily avoid the uncomfortable emotion; whilst also acknowledging what I was doing. I chose to go ahead with my plan to distract, because I wasn't sure what else to do, but I saw how I ran away from feeling. Awareness is the first step, it is key.

So I guess today the moral of my story is not to run away, not to hide. Be real and authentic and try not to be afraid of what it might look or sound like. I am now going to publish this post and do my best to accept it as it is; a day in struggletown, not much fun but not 'bad' or 'ugly. It is what it is on this very day. I choose acceptance.

Celebrating the little things in life....on the couch

Last night I got to sleep without assistance of any pharmaceutics. I am so pleased! Last night I had placed a packet of sleeping tablets and panamax next to my bed; fully prepared. The latter was to deal with the headache I anticipated would greet me in the morning, after having woken with one for the past few days. The sleeping tablets were there in case after an hour or two of meditating and mantras, adrenaline still coursed through my body keeping me awake. This morning I awoke without a headache and felt pleased; I slept naturally and was naturally pain free. I felt a sense of pride in this 'achievement'; I'd not had to take drugs! I quickly shifted into feeling amused; funny how such small things had become so significant this morning. They indicated progress, and less reliance on pharmaceutics, something I value highly. So highly infact that I have only had 2 courses of anti-biotics in my life and have prided myself on not walking through pharmacy doors for a year or years at a time.

This morning I also washed my hair, it just hadn't happened this week yet. I awoke determined this morning to get the job done, I went straight from bed to the shower, nothing would stand in my way. I then returned to my place on the couch, somewhat finding breathing a challenge (apparently another symptom of the thyroid disorder).

One may wonder why I am discussing such seemingly mundane details on my blog....allow me to explain.

It seems important to me to be documenting my progress, or, my journey through this period of time (illness) in my life. To keep track of the physical, mental, emotional and spiritual changes that occur. I've really got very little idea of what is yet to come; but it's about time I started practicing the celebration of small achievements. The doctor tells me I can expect another three weeks of being capable of little more than lying on the couch and flicking through channels.

It is no accident that my body has stopped still. I feel as if it is telling me 'don't you dare take one more step in that direction, lie on this couch until you get real, wake up and listen to your own knowing.. your desires.'

My body is wise, from much prior experience it knows that once I'm well I have a tendency to push harder, want more and go faster. This goes hand in hand with less acknowledgment of my achievements and diminished acceptance of where I'm at. My body knows I could go into a place of more wanting; less satisfaction. It is not fulfilling, and apparently, it does not sustain the mind, the body or soul.

I want, no, I need, this blog to keep me honest- to help me stay on track, or should I say get on track? I feel that by writing regularly, dare I say every day, I will have to be aware of how I am. I will need to be more conscious of what happens every day. The realisations I have, the progress that is made and how the challenges serve me. I believe each day is a gift. My intent is to not reject this gift just because I'm unwell and couchbound. I don't want to dwell in hopelessness or why me? I can let them visit, I will welcome all feelings and thoughts and graciously accept them, because they too are part of my experience. But to dwell in the boggy quagmire of such feelings alone, gosh, three weeks of that would be creating my own personal hell. I now choose to consciously and graciously accept each and every day as a gift, accept myself as I am, how I am, and whatever is here right now for me.