As we throw out the rest of the holiday meal leftovers, and the gifts have been given or received, our minds turn to the New Year – nothing but a stack of mostly open calendar days. A year of possibilities. A chance for a sort of “do over” to have a fresh start.
Diets or new gym memberships are begun (and sometimes abandoned just as quickly), our social media feeds are suddenly loaded with “How to Save Money by This Time Next Year” articles, and our neighborhoods are full of people getting rid of old toys or doing a “New Year purge” of barely worn clothes.
While the temptation to make a long list of resolutions is sometimes strong, and completely valid, it can be a rough time for folks with chronic illness. What we would love, we dare not wish for – and while we may want to jump on the “I will go to the gym 5 days a week next year” bandwagon, we all know that a string of rough days can throw any goals of this type off completely.
So this year, I am sharing some suggestions from my own list of resolutions that may help us usher in the New Year more gently.
Take up space
As folks with health issues that not only disrupt our own lives, but also disrupt the lives of our loved ones – which means that we can have the tendency to make ourselves small. We minimize our issues so we don’t feel like we are making it difficult for others. We wave off the idea that we need extra accommodations, or time. We cancel plans and then we feel guilty because we may have been able to push ourselves (and paid the price!).
We have to remember that (often) the people we are making plans with are our loved ones. They don’t want us to suffer. They understand more than we think they do. (And if they don’t, we can explain). We must take the space to feel more comfortable saying what it is we need (even if it is “I can’t make your cookie party, I need to be off my feet and asleep by 8”). They will understand.
Be soft with yourselves (and others)
Having said that, I am reminding us all to receive the things that we need; take the nap, the extra pain medication, the bath, the time to just veg out and watch a movie.
Remember: as we navigate what our lives are like with chronic illness, our loved ones may not be ready for what we need. Some only see us a few times a year. Some haven’t ever seen us during a flare. Some have only seen us on social media, where we edit our posts to try not to sound like all we do is complain (see above, feel free to take up that virtual space, too!). Our friends and family – our coworkers and our neighbors – are also adjusting to align their expectations and our reality. We must be kind to them as they work through this, too.
We can always explain ourselves to those willing to listen. Give some grace to those who are learning what your life is like, and give them some space to adjust.
Bloom where you’re planted
When I was younger, I spent a lot of time waiting for the next thing to happen. I thought I would move to a new place once I changed jobs; I would have a family once I owned a home; I would join that dance class once I lost some weight… It seemed like I was often deferring things until “someday.” And one day, while I was journaling, a bumper sticker I had seen earlier that day hit me (I may be the single person in the world who has had a major shift in thought due to a bumper sticker!) I could wait and wait for whatever to happen, or I could bloom where I was planted.
I could buy a house that wasn’t exactly what we were looking for, but we could make it exactly what we wanted. I could take whatever classes I wanted. I could become a mother without the rest of the timeline in perfect place.
And now, more than ever, this old adage needs dusting off. We may not ever be the person we originally envisioned ourselves in the future. We may never have that life. But our beauty can grow literally anywhere. We can bloom where we are. And that makes more sense than waiting for the “what-ifs”, to me.
Protect your peace
Remember our spoons. Learning what we can handle on any given day requires a lot of honesty with ourselves. We may not be able to predict our flares or rough days, but we might know that mornings work better than evenings for us. Or we may be able to predict when we will have a better day, and can try to plan accordingly.
As we bob on the surface of this sea of chronic illness, it is important to protect our peace. While we can be honest with ourselves and others, there may be some folks who react poorly. It is absolutely ok to take a pass if you know that someone who will complicate things or who will drain your energy is hosting or attending. You may know someone who you have explained what is normal for you, and they refuse to see it. Give yourself permission to say “no” (which, incidentally, is a complete sentence). Being gentle with ourselves doesn’t mean being a doormat.
I hope that we can keep up with some of these gentle New Year’s resolutions. In the spirit of being gentle with myself, I am not going to feel horrible if I slip. I can start again. I can move beyond a checklist and into a mindshift. I think we all can.
I hope that some of this has inspired you to be kind to yourself and others, and have a peaceful and loving 2025. Keep an eye out for me on the road this holiday, if I am up to traveling. I will be in the Subaru with the “Bloom where you’re planted” bumper sticker.
