Insight into not taking care of me

This month's More Magazine, the magazine for women over forty, had an article that hit close to home. I like this magazine but often find the content a little irrelevant to my life over forty. I just ain't that fabulous. Why, then, May, do you subscribe? Why, indeed. Perhaps it's to reassure myself that I still have time to become that CEO (or small business owner) I never really dreamed of becoming. Not that I didn't have the potential.

The article is about conundrum of having a cram-it-all-in life that exacerbates or even triggers a chronic illness. The intro went something this: When a woman is diagnosed with a chonic illness, she is often at the peak of her earning power and productivity. How do you choose between your livelihood and your life?

I wasn't even into the meat of the article--along with sidebars--when my emotions got the best of me. I kept waiting for the part where the article said, "And then after a year of being diligent with her treatment, the illness abates and Jane over-achiever goes back to doing those things she feels driven to accomplish."

That part never comes. But I knew it wouldn't. The article briefly touches on the fact that mood disorders also need to be accomodated just as chronic pain, lupus, or M.S. do. I was so moved by this article, I wrote a letter to the editor. I believe when a publication writes something so relevant it evokes a visceral emotional response, it warrants the effort of letting the author know that.

Before I was even half-way through All in a Day’s Work (February 2009), my eyes had welled up with tears. At 43, I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder and I thought it was the worst and truly most devastating thing that could happen to me in my lifetime. The stress of managing my illness and keeping it a secret at work was almost more unbearable than the BP itself. I learned some coping skills so I could work around my illness on a day-to-day basis, mostly so nobody would know how much it was affecting me. I was exhausted by that effort. My doctor had told me it was critical to cut back on my commitments and be kind to myself in order to reduce potentially dangerous stress levels, but I just kept pushing; I was determined to prove that no illness was going to make me a lesser version of the super-woman I had always been.

At 47, I was diagnosed with a mystifying yet debilitating nervous system disorder. Again, I was told to stop doing so much, but I actually started doing more: In addition to long days and erratic, punishing work hours in a very demading career, I spent the rest of my energy co-founding a fledgling nonprofit and writing and maintaining four blogs. I came down with shingles but instead of taking time to recuperate, I packed up my anti-virals, got on a plane and flew across the country to attend a conference.

Now I have progressing nerve damage in addition to post-herpetic neuralgia. Unless I slow down and find a different pace for my life, the nerve damage will continue. It is already becoming permanent. Still, I feel like I really have no choice but to just keep doing what everyone has always expected of me, especially in my professional life. I don’t look sick or act sick—until I get home—so nobody can even begin to appreciate how grinding my days actually are. When I have let on that I’m not doing well, the usual response is, “But you look OK. Your bad days are still more productive than most people's worst days.” Maybe that’s why expectations don’t change—everyone who knows me still sees me as part of an obsolete reality. I feel that I have to pretend that this obsolete reality is intact. I don’t want to disappoint anyone.

Thank you for an excellent and timely article. It has certainly helped me to know that I’m not the only over-achiever struggling to balance health and work, even though I may not have accepted my situation as well as the women profiled in the article.

Sincerely,

May Voirrey

My next step is to figure out whether or not my conditions will be cured; if not, how can I not resent and punish them with such acrimony?