Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything.
That's how the light gets in.
Leonard Cohen
This morning before I even had my coffee, my husband said that we needed to talk about money. Money is not a subject that I enjoy talking about at the best of times. Now, is anything but the best of times. My therapist and doctor have both advised me to work part-time while processing my grief and trauma. And so, for now, I'm working about 20 hours a week as a freelance writer and editor and selling books online. Neither job is bringing in much money and times are tough right now because I'm waiting to be paid for a project I've just finished.
Which brings me to the discussion about money that my husband and I had - or tried to have. It started out reasonably enough, then, as is so often the case, he lurched into my sorest spot - the fact that he is working full-time and makes much more money than I do. I don't think that he meant to poke me in my sore spot, he just forgot how sensitive about this financial imbalance in our relationship. To be blunt, I hate being financially dependent. When I'm being unkind to myself, that's what I call it dependence.
I don't think anyone with a chronic condition, whether physical or mental, relishes not being able to work as much as they once could. I have a cousin with fibromyalgia, a friend with MS, and several other friends with cancer, all of whom face this challenge. Complex PTSD is no exception. Working full-time is simply too stressful. I used to be able to do it when I was younger and when I was not aware of the grief and trauma I was carrying. Awareness and acceptance are not the same thing. Most days, I'm okay with my limitations. Today, brought face-to-face with money issues and my own feeling of inadequacy because I'm not "well" and can't make more money, I felt terrible. I felt terrible for most of the day. My self-talk was unkind. To be honest, it was brutally unkind. Apparently, this is a problem that others with PTSD face.
See PTSD and self-compassion for more on how the way we feel about ourselves has an impact on our ability to heal.
Beating ourselves up, isn't the answer. Kindness and self-compassion are. Once those small but powerful words crept into my mind - probably while I wasn't looking - I began to slowly feel better. After a while, I came downstairs from our bedroom, where I had been lying and thinking dark thoughts for most of the afternoon, ate dinner with my family, and then sat down to write this post. I'm not suggesting that self-compassion comes easily. Far from it. All too often I blame myself for having PTSD, even though I did not traumatize myself. This desire to be perfect is an obstacle to psychological and physical healing. See Letting Go of Perfection for more on perfectionism.
What challenges related to PTSD or another chronic condition do you find the hardest to accept?
