I recently read a (justified) fibro rant on another blog, then ran into a glitch that wouldn’t let me comment. So I decided to make my own blog post here instead.
Here’s a partial quote:
Today I just don’t know how to pretend to be “normal” because today I want to answer honestly when someone asks how I am. I want to spew the truth and tell everyone what is like to live with a chronic illness (or three, in my case) that controls your life.
But I can’t. I know I have to function, I have to say “I’m fine,” I have to find a way to make peace with myself. But wow, I am pissed today.
~ AKA Janie, The New Normal
I can understand why you’re pissed. I’ve certainly had my share of that.
What I don’t understand is why we feel like we have to say we’re fine, when we are most definitely not.
Sure, it’s what society has taught us to say. And it’s what most people expect our response to be when we’re asked how we’re doing.
But if we lie to them, aren’t we lying to ourselves also? Besides the other implications, lying also makes your body weak. None of this is good.
The average person tells four lies a day or one thousand four hundred and sixty a year; a total of eighty-seven thousand six hundred by the age of sixty. And the most common lie is: “I’m fine.”
~ Unknown
I decided to start testing the waters a few years back because I was kinda pissed that I had to lie to play my expected part in society’s chitchat.
So when someone asked me, I closed my eyes for a second and asked myself how I was feeling. And I gave that answer to the person in front of me.
It could range from something like “I feel pretty good today, thanks” to “it’s been pretty challenging lately but so far, I’m making it through” or even “things aren’t going so good right now, but thanks for asking.”
The replies I got were sometimes surprising and often (I’m almost but not quite embarrassed to admit) entertaining.
Turns out I’d done such a good job of hiding the way I felt, many of the people I interact with on a fairly regular basis had no idea I was sick. Some of those caring people then sincerely admitted their ignorance, though it wasn’t their fault I had hidden the truth, and even asked how they could help.
Bless their kind souls.
And others… Let’s just say some were a bit flustered that I hadn’t answered the way I was “supposed” to.
Some offered sincere concern, and some, well, they didn’t ask me again.
Ever.
But whatever the response or entertainment factor happened to be, the very best thing to come out of this little experiment was that it made ME feel better. It turned out to be such a relief to come out of hiding.
Obviously, no one but my closest friends are willing to hear a litany of complaints (and it’s better for my soul anyway if I try and find some good in any situation, instead of only focusing on the negative).
But giving a quick honest answer to a simple question? I don’t believe there’s a thing wrong with that.
In fact, I recommend it!
Be well,
Sherri
Do you feel like you’re expected to lie to keep other people comfortable? Do you do it? If so, why?
Please share in the comment section below:
Sources: The New Normal
Taming the Beast: A Guide to Conquering Fibromyalgia
Sometimes I just don’t want to deal with follow-up questions. So, I tell them I’m ok, or the weather is a little hard on me. Some days I tell the truth.
Some days I do feel well. I’m having more of those days. Not today, but that’s neither here nor there.
Some days I wish there was an MD for people with multiple problems, who only wants to sort through what they are taking, what could be discontinued and what might be added. This is one of those days.
Where, was I? This is turning into a small rant, because I know you understand.
I getcha, Anne.
We all have to approach things in the way that works best for our particular needs.
And I think you know me well enough to know I have a wee bit of a rebellious nature.
😉
I’m glad to hear you’re doing what works best for YOU.
xoxo
Sherri