Ahmadian Counselling

One of the most difficult things that I had to deal with after my chronic pain diagnosis was my identity. Before fibromyalgia came into my life, I had a clear understanding of who I was, what my hobbies were, and what goals I had set up for myself. I loved hiking, running, figure skating, dancing, and reading. I enjoyed going out and hanging out with friends. It was exciting to dress up, put on make up and get ready for a fun night out with friends. I knew that I could push my body well past its limits and recover the next day.

Within a few months, everything changed. I went from an excited, happy self to a shriveled exhausted self. I would try to go for a run and then find myself bedridden for a week afterward. I would try skating on ice, only to find myself in excruciating pain after 5 minutes. My body could no longer allow me to do the things that I used to enjoy. I felt like I needed to recuperate after taking a shower. So trying to do the grouse grind ( which I used to love) didn’t seem like an option. Everything that used to define who I was as a person was no longer accessible. I felt like I didn’t know who I was. I felt lost and joyless. It felt like the pain was this blanket that had dimmed all my hopes and dreams.

This internal conflict between who I thought I was and what my body was letting me do, caused me a lot of emotional pain. I found myself getting angry when I was no longer able to do the things that I wanted. I knew I was miserable and wanted to bring joy into my life but I found myself at loss on how to go about it. This was compounded by the fact that I felt like no one understood my pain. So I would oscillate between pushing myself too much or just giving up.

It took me years to try to redefine my identity. I had to figure out who I was without figure skating, hiking, and running. To be honest, it is still something that I am working on. I have always said that I wouldn’t wish the excruciating symptoms of chronic pain on my worst enemy. Yet, I would be lying if I didn’t admit that I am grateful to my fibromyalgia for helping me gain a better understanding of myself. I would have loved it if I could have done this without the pain but here we are.

One of the first steps that I had to take was acceptance. I had to accept that I had chronic pain. It sounds so simple but it is not. I had to accept that I no longer had the same privileges as before. Equally important was the acceptance of myself. Accepting and recognizing that I was not less than others because I no longer had those privileges. It was okay that it took me a few more hours to be able to read and comprehend a paper because of my brain fog. It was okay that there were days when I could only bare to take a shower, cook, and eat. It was okay that I could no longer rely on my memory to do a task.

There were many times that it felt like I was playing Mario Kart and I kept getting hit with the squid, blocking out my vision. I was understandably frustrated. How was it so easy for others who had similar skills as me to pass me by? Why don’t they get hit with the squid and have to slow down? I had to recognize that our society was not designed for people with chronic illnesses.

It wasn’t easy to accept these things. I had to remind myself that even though the game seems rigged, I am still going. I needed to recognize that I was valued and had a lot to contribute. I had to remind myself that my value was not tied to my productivity or how fast I completed a task.

Once I was able to accept my body and its “limitations”. I was finally free to re-develop my own identity. I didn’t have to completely say goodbye to my old self, I just needed to reframe her. I could still dance but I needed to make sure that I took breaks every 5 minutes. I could still do the grouse grind, but I needed to make sure that I had enough time before and after to prep my body. I learned to use calendars, timers, and frequent breaks to deal with my brain fog. I learned that I could have my groceries delivered rather than going grocery shopping to save my energy for other tasks. This acceptance also gave me the freedom to decide what was important to me. I recognized that I no longer had an unlimited energy source and had to prioritize. This helped me realize what are the most important things in my life. For example, I didn’t have to say yes to every single project at work. Or I didn’t have to accept every single invitation to hang out.

If you are struggling with chronic pain, I encourage you to reflect on what acceptance would mean for you. What would it look like if you were to accept your pain? What are some barriers that would prevent you from accepting your pain? I recognize that these are difficult questions to ponder. If you’d like support managing your chronic pain, I highly encourage you to book a counselling session. You can learn more about my services here.