We got mail - an email, in fact. I’m not including everything the writer said and, of course, I’ve kept it anonymous. I share this because I have a hunch that her voice isn’t alone and I think that voice should be heard.
And in the spirit of creating conversation and getting your thoughts. Please – comment on the web and let us know.
Ladies: What do you suggest when chronic illnesses and caregiving have impoverished you and you can’t afford vacations; when respite care’s out of fiscal reach; when flare ups have put you out sick so often that if you even have time off left, asking for more is inviting job loss because your boss’s patience is thin and you’re behind anyway and wiped out playing catchup?
Does this resonate with you?
The writer seems to be frustrated by Joan’s post about taking a vacation as well as my own (in my WorkingWithChronicIllness Blog). Knowing that the best writing has a specific reader in mind, we created our target reader when we wrote our book — and when we blog here. She’s not “everywoman”. She is someone with a lot on her plate at all times and chronic illness makes it often feel like life is just too damn hard (sorry if my language offends but I can’t think of another word that does this justice).
So, I ask you as a writer — and as a coach. What would you want someone to say to you when you tell her that you’re feeling like you’re drowning - and there’s no oar in sight?
Rosalind aka cicoach.com
Unfortunately I don’t think there is a real answer. I’ve been there and back too many times to even listen to what bologna people say. I just want to be validated that the situation sucks and there isn’t an answer and that the other person acknowledges there is no way out of the pit…
Most people who want to help usually ask if you did this or that, or advise you what you should say to your boss–but you usually understand the situation better than they have, and have already looked at all avenues available.
The other half of people either philosophize, or bring in religion, which can be offensive to some people.
Maybe I just want a quiet hug
Jennifer - You are so right. People rarely say what you want to hear. I wish we could wear a sign saying, “Just give me a hug!” Here’s one from me to you.
Rosalind
I don’t know if I want someone to just say something. But during my time of transition, I had a lot of people DO something. I had the friends who took me shopping and padded my meager food budget. I had the friend who would come and wash dishes. She even showed me the paper towel method of cleaning one’s floor while sitting in a chair (still use this sometimes). I had the same friend take the kids for awhile, even to a big amusement park for a day.
In a nutshell, I had people help. Yes, you get the advice and the religion, but mostly I got help, which was what I needed. The friends who were REAL did not disappear into the boy scoutin, soccer Mom, PTA volunterin haze I used to be a part of. The real ones stuck with me throgh all of the changes.
Also, I had people, lay and professional, help me grieve. Losing the ability to work, even temporarily, is a disheartening and shocking experience. It screams of our mortality, dependence on others and that sinking feeling that we can NOT do it all. Through therapy (what I call disability grief counseling), I learned that I could redefine myself, grieve for my losses (financial and otherwise) and come out no longer drowning, but knowing how to throw a lifeline to anyone out there who still was sinking.
Take care.
What a great point, Judith. I hadn’t thought of it that way. We often bring food over when a family is grieving a death –but rarely when someone is “just to sick to cook”. ALso you’re so right about the loss aspect of this. I wrote about it in the book - because it is a process of grieving for something that’s no longer there. Here’s my question for you. What words tell you that someone needs a lifeline? And in adition to the physical effort, what do you say that seems to help? Rosalind
All of the comments above are great. When I have been in this ‘drowning’ situation my husband and I have created the ‘at home bed and breakfast’. We just close the blinds, turn of the ringers to the phone and create a moratorium on discussing any of our problems or concerns. We try to do fun things like watch a funny movie we have on video or play a simple board or card game (my brain gets foggy when my illnesses act up). This doesn’t require the spending of money or effort, but does provide a break. When things have been really bad we have done this one evening and one weekend day per week.
When I find someone who needs a lifeline, I just say, “Tell me all about it” and then listen. I usually don’t add much other than ‘that sucks’ until the person has vented their ‘lot’. That is when I say “How can I help” or “This is what I can do to help”. Often people just need to be heard and feel less alone.
Julie
Julie,I love that you and your husband have found ways to close it all out. We all, healthy and not healthy, have to be able to do that. And your response to others is spot on. What a good friend you must be.