When Illness Changes Everything

We live in a world where everyone is in a hurry. We often wait until we need something and then want it right away. When it comes to appointments, it is easy to hope that the person providing the service can rearrange her schedule to accommodate ours.

I understand that. Life is busy, schedules are complicated, and sometimes an appointment really does feel urgent.

But I also live with fibromyalgia, chronic fatigue, chronic pain, anxiety, depression, and the feeling of being overwhelmed. Because of that, I cannot always give people what they want exactly when they want it. I have learned that if I continually push beyond what my physical and emotional health can handle, eventually my body makes the decision for me—and the pain and exhaustion become much worse.

I do not know exactly what caused my illness. I have wondered whether years of people-pleasing and giving more than my mind and body could afford played a part. I have questioned whether it followed a medical reaction or a traumatic event, such as the car accident I experienced many years earlier. I may never have a definite answer.

What I do know is that I have lived with this illness for approximately 18 years.

For a long time, I tried desperately to be the person I was before I became ill. I tried to keep the same pace, accomplish the same amount, and say yes whenever someone needed me. I thought that if I tried hard enough, I could somehow push through it.

Instead, I drained myself and caused my physical pain to become more intense.

I am finally learning that taking care of myself is not selfish. Rest is not laziness. Saying no does not mean I do not care. Setting boundaries does not mean that I am unwilling to help.

Sometimes my answer must be:

“I can do that, but it will need to be on one of these days.”

“I have an appointment available during these hours.”

“I cannot stay late, but I would be happy to find another time for you.”

“I do not have a last-minute opening today.”

Those are not excuses. They are the boundaries that make it possible for me to keep going.

I love my work. I love caring for my clients, helping people feel better, and providing thoughtful, unhurried services. I want to continue doing what I love for as long as possible. To do that, I must respect my health, work within the hours my body can manage, and leave room for rest and recovery.

I cannot return to the person I was before chronic illness. But I can take care of the person I am today.

My boundaries are not walls meant to keep people out. They are the support that allows me to remain present, capable, and caring for the people I serve.

So when I offer certain days and hours, I am not saying, “Your time does not matter.”

I am saying, “My health matters too—and caring for it is what allows me to continue caring for you.”