When It Feels Like I'm Letting My Loved Ones Down

It’s been a rough few weeks in my house. I had norovirus for Christmas, my husband came down with a sinus type illness the first week of January, and then I got that same illness the second week of January. The third week of January my husband came down with the flu, followed a few days later by my nephew who lives with us. I managed to avoid the flu (thanks Tamiflu!) but after days of taking care of both of them my body started to give out. To top it off there was a historical snow storm coming our way that could lead to power outages during polar vortex cold weather. Safe to say I was feeling stressed. 

As it turns out we didn’t get any power outages but the day of the storm I had a Mast Cell allergic reaction. Then the next day I tried to dig one of our cars out and within 5 minutes hurt my back really badly, it’s probably a disc problem. And just like that I felt like I was letting my family down by not being able to keep taking care of them and handling all the household chores. It’s a form of grief that hits me periodically and something I’m continually having to work on.

Objectively speaking I did step up for my family when they needed me. I took both men to doctors appointments and spent way too much time in the pharmacy trying to get everyone's medications worked out and insurance sorted. I cooked all the meals and did all the housework for the first 4 days of that very bad week. I did all the preparation for the snow storm that was coming. I tracked their vitals when they were really sick to make sure they would be okay. I did a lot of work. So why then do I so quickly feel useless when my body needs a break?

I think it goes back to having my identity wrapped up in my ability to do manual labor. I come from a family of farmers on one side and recent immigrants on the other. Both sides were extremely hard workers and both sides were very proud of that attribute. As a kid I internalized that attitude and grew up being proud of myself for being a real work horse. I started working for the family businesses when I was in middle school and started working outside the family businesses in my freshman year of high school. After college I was working 2-3 jobs, often pulling 12 hour days. That’s when I first became chronically ill.

The realization that I couldn’t work like I used to was hard for me to take. I quit all but one of my jobs and worked just under 40 hours a week but even that was challenging. I was desperate to find a solution so I could get back to my life as I’d known it. I went to countless doctors trying to find help. I tried every diet or intervention you’ve ever heard of and I’d guess a few you haven’t. It took years for me to accept that I wasn’t going to be able to live like I used to anymore. 

This year marks 15 years since I first became chronically ill, or rather since my chronic illnesses first became debilitating (there were hints of them much earlier in my life). And I still deal with this same kind of grief fairly regularly. I don’t know if I’ll ever completely work through it or not. This might just be part of the cyclical grief that happens when your life is fundamentally changed forever. I know in my head that my worth isn’t tied up in my ability to perform manual labor, but knowing that and feeling that are two different things.