Most of my friends admire me for what I accomplish. Those closest to me know my deepest horror stories, and most embarrassing moments concerning my disease. Having an inflammatory bowel disease is not a pretty picture- or a pretty smell either. It puts extreme limits on your everyday life, and makes you fear going anywhere without immediate access to that porcelain bowl. Like any chronic illness, it drains you of energy, and it heightens frustration when someone asks “why can’t you go to the party tonight?” Sure, you have no plans, but the only thing getting your attention lately is twelve water bottles, a copy of Cosmo, and your pillow. So unless the host of this party allows you to take a nap in the midst of the red cup parade, you’re not going.

However, I think I speak for everyone when I say that most of the problem with this disease is mental. Don’t get me wrong; I’ve had my months of bedridden sickness with zero food intake, days of extreme dehydration and reruns of lame TBS sitcoms and nights where those wonderful pills don’t agree with my system. I had it all. But what I refer to when I say “mental problems” is that glorious time of remission. I do not know much about every single chronic illness out there, but I do know that the time I spend in remission is probably the biggest miracle I experience in this life. Life itself is a miracle, and I am living one while in remission, however, my mental state is nowhere near that of a “disease free person”. My biggest fear, next to spiders, is still walking across campus and not knowing if I will make it before I have to go to the bathroom. My fears are not knowing what I can and cannot eat or missing a midterm because I woke up in excruciating abdominal pain. I said I was in remission, right? Regardless, that mental aspect of being sick controls my everyday willingness to go out and live life to the fullest. Your brain gets used to expecting the worst, even when your doctor says you’re “good to go”. For me, this mental aspect of chronic illness is much stronger than the physical.
I have a technique I picked up over the past year to deal with this mental block. My health entered remission this past October, but I had been in and out of troubles for about a year prior to that. During that time, the hardest thing I made myself do was to leave the house. I remember when my boyfriend took me down to the beach when I had enough energy to walk again. It was exciting! I had been to the beach a zillion times before, but this particular day was quite an accomplishment-I didn’t even have to run to the pot! It was an amazing feeling of control and success. It was then that I realized that ulcerative colitis does not control me. I control it. It does not define me or what I am capable of achieving. It may put limitations on my life at times, but it never fully takes away anything I wish to tackle. The trick I learned that day is baby steps. Sounds inspirational, doesn’t it? Think about it. How many people do you know that get sick, and then jump back into their regular routine as soon as possible? Oh, I do dare to dream. Being the fast paced person that I am, I wanted to do the same. I wanted to run ten miles, go to the Mall and eat with my friends again, but my brain told me I couldn’t. I was too scared to leave my bathroom, and the people who took care of me for so long. I was terrified! It was at that moment in the cool sand that I realized that I could do those things…eventually. Baby steps help overcome two obstacles. The first is the physical. Everyone knows that you do not go back to perfect health after being sick. You cannot just jump on the bike and ride for 100 miles- you will surely pass out. By taking baby steps to reach that ultimate goal, you allow yourself to recover and build up strength to achieve whatever it is that you want to achieve.
The second, and most important obstacle, is the mental one. That small task I accomplished that day at the beach was a step toward readying myself to do bigger things.For some, the biggest thing may be walking to the end of your street andback. For others, it may be running a marathon. However, big or small, yourultimate goal is, you can achieve it if you take baby steps. Do not ever letthat mental voice tell you that you are too sick to do something. It is nottrue. Baby steps people, baby steps. It may sound obvious, and it may sound silly, but without those cute baby steps, I would still be hanging out withmy parents, afraid of the world. If you pass on one task a day for a month,
that is already thirty little steps toward a mentally healthy outlook on life with a chronic illness.
Oh, and about that party…that was one of my ultimate social goals. I totally baby-stepped my way to that red cup.
By Caitlyn Pilkington © 2007 butyoudontlooksick.com
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