Control
When you settle into your new normal after being diagnosed with a chronic illness, you begin to think, Okay, I can do this, until a setback or flare accentuates the fact that you have little control over your own body. I sometimes cope with this by trying to control something or someone else, usually my husband. I imagine that if my external world looks good, then all is well. It’s my way of trying to bend reality so it’s not so scary. When I’m at my worst, I think of a hundred honey-do projects in an attempt to control my environment because I can’t coerce or cajole my body into cooperating. Our yard becomes a primordial forest if there are weeds in the garden. An overflowing garbage will almost certainly bring on rats and the plague, while a dish in the sink means we’re living in squalor.
I know, I know. The people who love us should know what needs to be done and do it. After all, we can’t do it ourselves. It’s easy to forget that we are wayfarers in uncharted territory. It’s difficult for someone who lives a mostly healthy life to truly understand our journey. One person, no matter how much they love you, can’t meet all of your needs, real or imagined. Knowing my behavior patterns helps me catch myself before focusing on what is wrong rather than right. Much to my humiliation, I had to embrace the fact that just because I think something is necessary doesn’t make it an obligatory task for someone else. I can now better appreciate what others do for me instead of fixating on what needs to be done.
Now, most of the time, when I’m feeling out of control and want my surroundings to resemble a page out of House Beautiful or Better Homes and Gardens Magazine, I ask myself some questions:
Why do I want this done?
Is it necessary?
Does this have to be done right now?
What’s the worst thing that will happen if it’s not done?
I think about the answers to these questions and cut my “have to” list way down. But let’s face it, altering our external conditions gives us a temporary sense of control. It provides some relief from feeling overwhelmed by our unpredictable situations. I often pick one small thing I can do myself, like changing the pillows on my sofa, arranging grocery store flowers in a vase, or lighting a candle. Sometimes I tackle small organizational tasks like sorting mail or deleting old files from my computer. These simple things give me a feeling of accomplishment and, yes, control. They are the thin threads that help stitch together my worn seams.
If you stay sad or anxious for too long, talk to your doctor and get professional help.
