When 'Sucking It Up' Isn't A Good Idea

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the culture of my family, particularly as it relates to my illnesses. My grandparents on my Dad’s side were 1st generation immigrants and on my Mom’s side the whole family is tough farmer types. Because of this there was a strong culture of ‘suck it up’ in my family growing up. I don’t mean to make it sound like there was no compassion in my family, but the ability to ‘make it happen’ regardless of how you were feeling was certainly an attribute that was valued.

Several years ago I had a pretty serious bout with anxiety and depression brought on my a lower-than-acceptable quality of life, mostly caused by poorly controlled IBS. It was three months of barely being able to function. I wasn’t sleeping well or eating well, I took a leave of absence from work, and most importantly I sought out more aggressive treatments for my IBS. If you’ve ever dealt with a chronic illness you know that re-adjusting your whole treatment plan takes a good bit of time and a lot of doctors visits, usually with specialists who can be hard to get in with. The result was several months of struggling pretty badly psychologically.

I remember one day having an hour to kill in between doctors appointments. I called my brother since I hadn’t talked to him in awhile. My brother is only a few years older than me and we didn’t get along well as kids. As adults we mostly got along when we worked together since we both had a very strong work ethic, which led to mutual respect between us. That being said, my brother is not who I call for sympathy. When I told him that I had taken a leave of absence from work and that I was struggling really badly with anxiety and depression he said something to the effect of, “If you feel that way all the time, why not just get on with it?”

It was an honest question. He wasn’t trying to be mean or judgmental. But that question really summarizes the culture of ‘suck it up’ that we both grew up in. Toughness was considered a virtue, and in most cases it is. But as with all virtues, when taken to an extreme it becomes detrimental. When my brother asked me that question the best answer I could come up with in that moment was, “Because I don’t have to feel this way.” What I was trying to say is that suffering through something just for the sake of it isn’t worth it. That there was help to be had for me with both my physical and psychological illnesses. I don’t know if he understood what I was trying to say at the time, and the conversation moved on after that.

Looking back I can see over and over again times when I could have gotten help earlier for my chronic conditions if I hadn’t believed wholeheartedly that everyone has aches and pains all the time or that everyone gets dizzy when they stand up. I believed both those things (and many other things) were normal and that we all just got on with it because that was the mature thing to do.

I remember being at work one day, thinking about how much my feet hurt. The conclusion I came to was that I needed to buy new shoes. I started asking my co-workers what kinds of shoes they liked. As we got talking I asked them, “So you guys’ feet hurt all the time right?” They said no. I said, “I thought we all had feet that hurt and we just don’t talk about it because it sucks.” Again they said no. That was when I realized that my shoes might not be the problem. Of course a good pair of shoes can help with foot pain, but I already had a good pair of shoes. Many months later when I was diagnosed with POTS and started using compression socks to keep my blood pressure up I noticed that my feet didn’t hurt anymore. Apparently my problem all along was blood pooling and poor circulation, but it took me years and years to realize that because I assumed we were all just sucking it up.

Eventually I started to see this trend of realizing that the things I thought were normal were actually symptoms. I started making a point to ask my husband or close friends about those things, rather than just assume it was normal. One day I was driving somewhere with my husband and I said, “Okay, take a really deep breath, like as big a breath as you can.” He did. I said, “Do your ribs hurt when you do that?” He said no. Of course they didn’t hurt. Ribs aren’t supposed to hurt when you breath. Why did I think that everyone’s ribs hurt when they breath? It seems silly looking back now, but at the time I legitimately believed it.

I am not saying that there is never a time that merits sucking it up. But I also think that my tendency, and the tendency of most of my family, is to take it too far. I have always tended toward acceptance despite that fact that problems can be fixed or at least helped. I’ve been teaching myself over that past several years that my health doesn’t have to be in a crisis state for me to seek treatment. I don’t have to be fully disabled by something

before getting help with it. It’s been an important part of my journey towards understanding self care and building a life that is sustainable despite my struggles with mental and physical health problems.