Blog
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Finding Strength Through Shared Experience: My Journey with Chronic Illness and PTSD
Sunday 21 July 2024
Life often surprises us in ways we never anticipate.
For many, the unpredictability can become overwhelming, especially when navigating the complex landscape of chronic illness and the emotional toll it can take.
I want to take a moment to share my own lived experience, not just as an account of my struggles, but as a way to help others who may feel isolated in their own battles.
We are not alone, and together, we can find strength in shared understanding.
Yesterday, I had lunch with friends--
It was an outing filled with laughter, love and good food.
I was happy, I was calm and we had a great time.
Sunday 21 July 2024
Life often surprises us in ways we never anticipate.
For many, the unpredictability can become overwhelming, especially when navigating the complex landscape of chronic illness and the emotional toll it can take.
I want to take a moment to share my own lived experience, not just as an account of my struggles, but as a way to help others who may feel isolated in their own battles.
We are not alone, and together, we can find strength in shared understanding.
Yesterday, I had lunch with friends--
It was an outing filled with laughter, love and good food.
I was happy, I was calm and we had a great time.
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Not long after snapping this calm, happy photo, I found myself in the midst of a panic attack.
The walls seemed to close in as we exited the shopping center, there were many more people than I was expecting. I was trying navigate through the crowd with my walking cane and bad balance and I suddenly felt the panic rising.
I was so lucky to have my best friend there with me, and she was able to pull me to the side and tell me to stop, breathe and wait. I am grateful for her and her calm.
I went home and when asked if I was okay, the tears flowed freely.
It was more than just crying; it was a release, a proper snotty, can’t stop, can’t-concentrate cry.
I have Chronic Illness and multiple other conditions. I also have Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), a direct consequence of the traumatic experiences I endured during my hospital admissions earlier this year (more on the one day). With a big surgery looming in the next few months and many days of pre-operative appointments awaiting me, my PTSD has flared up. It is as if it has burst forth from its confines, relentlessly imposing itself on my everyday life.
I cannot sleep and when I do manage to find rest, I have nightmares and/or night terrors that leave me exhausted.
As I navigate this month, my calendar is a whirlwind of medical appointments.
This month I have already had a surgical clinic, neurologist, endocrinologists, blood tests, GP, thyroid ultrasound and a four-hour pre-op that involved me and 8 other people (surgeons, nurse, pharmacist, anesthesiologist, doctors etc).
Each encounter and appointment adds layers to my weariness.
It may sound overwhelming, and it is.
This month alone, amidst the appointments I’ve already faced, I have more to come: another surgeon consultation, further endocrine evaluations, more bloods, dental visit, cardiologist appointments, and an endoscopic exam of my vocal cords—all needing to be done before my surgery.
I am undeniably tired, fed up, and, if I’m being honest, feeling quite overwhelmed and I haven’t a date for admission yet.
All I know is that it will be within the next couple of months.
I think with the PTSD from being in hospital; the knowledge that I have to do it again, and for longer than I thought it would be, is making this so much harder. I was hoping with everything that it would be an in and out the same day or stay overnight deal... however that was short lived.. I am high risk and complicated because of all of my medical conditions and so al lot of Preop preparation is needed; both as an outpatient and an inpatient. I honestly have no idea how I am going to manage being admitted, and dealing with PTSD from hospital stays but I guess I will have to wait and see what happens.
And yet, as I sit here, writing this and wondering if sleep will find me tonight, I realize that this overwhelming sensation is what chronic illness often feels like. It’s a cycle of coping and crashing, of feeling alright one moment and then being knocked down by an avalanche of emotions and responsibilities the next. This turbulence is normal—it’s part of the journey. We manage our way through, allowing ourselves to cry when necessary, and then find the resilience to pick ourselves back up and continue trudging onward.
I consider myself fortunate to have a close circle of friends who support me through this journey. Some people don’t have that kind of network, and it breaks my heart to think of anyone facing these challenges alone.
For that part of my life— my support system—I am deeply grateful.
This path can be incredibly hard, but I am acutely aware that others are also fighting their own battles, often silently. I understand how isolating this experience can be, and I know that sharing our stories can illuminate the path for someone else. It can serve as a lifeline, a flicker of hope in moments of darkness.
So, I will continue to share. I will keep writing about my experiences, my struggles, and my small victories. To anyone reading this who is fighting to keep going, know that I am sending love and virtual strength your way.
You matter, your feelings matter, and your journey is valid.
Together, we can navigate this labyrinth of emotions, pain, and healing as a united community.
Remember, you are not alone.
The walls seemed to close in as we exited the shopping center, there were many more people than I was expecting. I was trying navigate through the crowd with my walking cane and bad balance and I suddenly felt the panic rising.
I was so lucky to have my best friend there with me, and she was able to pull me to the side and tell me to stop, breathe and wait. I am grateful for her and her calm.
I went home and when asked if I was okay, the tears flowed freely.
It was more than just crying; it was a release, a proper snotty, can’t stop, can’t-concentrate cry.
I have Chronic Illness and multiple other conditions. I also have Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), a direct consequence of the traumatic experiences I endured during my hospital admissions earlier this year (more on the one day). With a big surgery looming in the next few months and many days of pre-operative appointments awaiting me, my PTSD has flared up. It is as if it has burst forth from its confines, relentlessly imposing itself on my everyday life.
I cannot sleep and when I do manage to find rest, I have nightmares and/or night terrors that leave me exhausted.
As I navigate this month, my calendar is a whirlwind of medical appointments.
This month I have already had a surgical clinic, neurologist, endocrinologists, blood tests, GP, thyroid ultrasound and a four-hour pre-op that involved me and 8 other people (surgeons, nurse, pharmacist, anesthesiologist, doctors etc).
Each encounter and appointment adds layers to my weariness.
It may sound overwhelming, and it is.
This month alone, amidst the appointments I’ve already faced, I have more to come: another surgeon consultation, further endocrine evaluations, more bloods, dental visit, cardiologist appointments, and an endoscopic exam of my vocal cords—all needing to be done before my surgery.
I am undeniably tired, fed up, and, if I’m being honest, feeling quite overwhelmed and I haven’t a date for admission yet.
All I know is that it will be within the next couple of months.
I think with the PTSD from being in hospital; the knowledge that I have to do it again, and for longer than I thought it would be, is making this so much harder. I was hoping with everything that it would be an in and out the same day or stay overnight deal... however that was short lived.. I am high risk and complicated because of all of my medical conditions and so al lot of Preop preparation is needed; both as an outpatient and an inpatient. I honestly have no idea how I am going to manage being admitted, and dealing with PTSD from hospital stays but I guess I will have to wait and see what happens.
And yet, as I sit here, writing this and wondering if sleep will find me tonight, I realize that this overwhelming sensation is what chronic illness often feels like. It’s a cycle of coping and crashing, of feeling alright one moment and then being knocked down by an avalanche of emotions and responsibilities the next. This turbulence is normal—it’s part of the journey. We manage our way through, allowing ourselves to cry when necessary, and then find the resilience to pick ourselves back up and continue trudging onward.
I consider myself fortunate to have a close circle of friends who support me through this journey. Some people don’t have that kind of network, and it breaks my heart to think of anyone facing these challenges alone.
For that part of my life— my support system—I am deeply grateful.
This path can be incredibly hard, but I am acutely aware that others are also fighting their own battles, often silently. I understand how isolating this experience can be, and I know that sharing our stories can illuminate the path for someone else. It can serve as a lifeline, a flicker of hope in moments of darkness.
So, I will continue to share. I will keep writing about my experiences, my struggles, and my small victories. To anyone reading this who is fighting to keep going, know that I am sending love and virtual strength your way.
You matter, your feelings matter, and your journey is valid.
Together, we can navigate this labyrinth of emotions, pain, and healing as a united community.
Remember, you are not alone.
All writing and all images on this website are copyright and cannot be
copied or used without the express and written permission of Tabitha J Page.
Sharing pages straight from the website is welcomed however/please give credit if sharing and use the direct browser link.
copied or used without the express and written permission of Tabitha J Page.
Sharing pages straight from the website is welcomed however/please give credit if sharing and use the direct browser link.
