Don’t Let Age or Chronic Illness Steal Your Identity
By Darla Isackson
Writer and editor Maurine Proctor said that as we age, “the beauty and strength of our youth is steadily diminished, so what we counted on one day as the very essence of ourselves is taken away over time.”
Aging, plus chronic illness, can result in diminished strength that can feel like the loss of “the very essence of ourselves,” and it may happen quickly. Within a relatively short time, we can go from being fully functioning, capable people to never knowing whether we will be able to do anything at all. We may also feel quite strong one day and completely wiped out the next. Such drastic change and loss can either threaten our identity or improve our perspective.
I’ve noticed a direct correlation with the effects of aging and the effects of chronic illness, yet both offer golden opportunities for growth. We can choose to reassess and build our lives and identity on a more solid foundation. For example, consider this interesting fact about those of us who suffer from illnesses such as Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (CFS, which is often associated with the Epstein Barr virus), Lupus, fibromyalgia, or undiagnosed weakness and deficient immune systems. We are almost always people who have previously enjoyed a positive identity. We have been high achievers, work horses, the ones referred to when people say, “If you want to get something done, ask a busy person.” We may have been juggling dozens of balls at once without letting one drop—for years on end. We may have had the idea that the longer hours we could work, the more praiseworthy we would become. Our identity may have been all tied up in our ability to perform.
Then, crash! Illness or just the inevitable process of aging seem to rob us of that identity. But only if we let it, and we don’t have to let it! Our limitations can instead help us reject the lie that our sense of worth is based on doing instead of on being.
Accepting and Transcending
Chronic illness and aging are not the thief of our identity. Instead, the culprit is believing subtle lies that tell us we must perform in order to have worth, or that we are “less than” when we lose stamina and capability.
Still, chronic illness and aging can be major trials because of the limitations they impose and because they don’t go away. My biggest problem has most often been not accepting my illness and aging issues, fighting against reality, wanting things to be different than they are. I have been known to use my small stores of energy running hither and yon trying to find help, determined to recover what I’ve lost. Some of that driving desire to find solutions is good, but it can become an obsession that keeps me from surrendering to “what is.” I have observed that the more I accept the reality of my situation, even the part that is simply the process of aging, the more others can accept it and the more peaceful I feel.
I have known people who had illnesses that were chronic and also terminal whose calm acceptance became a source of inspiration to others. I visited with a lady recently whose third bout with cancer is so pervasive that the doctors have given her no hope. Yet her attitude is inspiring. She isn’t apologizing for not being able to be up serving and doing. She radiates faith and acceptance and is very much herself in spite of her illness. Can those of us with chronic illness and aging issues learn from such examples and respond in a better way?
Maurine Proctor, quoted earlier, concluded, “Sometimes illness is the only thing that can pull us off the fast track into the still places of the soul where we stop and feel God’s love and listen to his affirmation of us as His children. It is possible to avoid feeling inept, weak, slow, foggy-minded, or powerless during illness; we can, instead, choose to honor the real self inside who has the assignment to accept ‘what is’ and simply learn from all that happens.”
The challenge is to internalize the deep truth that neither illness, injury, nor age defines us. Beneath layers of limitations, our true self, who we were before, is still there.
Seeing Ourselves as Separate from Our Illness
My friend Debbie Bake describes working with patients on the psychiatric unit in the hospital. She said, “It became my quest to help patients understand their true worth. After asking the Lord for His guidance, it occurred to me that those with depression believe that they are their illness with its corresponding symptoms. I pondered what a depressed patient would be without their illness identity, and it gave me an idea. When I taught a group one day, we discussed the factors impacting their self-esteem.
“I then asked each person in the group to take a piece of paper and write as quickly as they could the character traits they ascribed to themselves—either now or in the past, positive and negative alike. I urged them to hurry so they wouldn’t get stuck thinking only of the negative, dominant traits. Then I asked them to cross out those traits that were linked in any way to their illness. I explained that whatever traits were not crossed out gave a more accurate depiction of who they really are. I was thrilled to see so many faces, which previously had no expression, light up. I had several patients tell me it was the first time they ever thought of themselves as separate from their illness, that perhaps there was a chance their true selves still existed.”
Hanging Onto Identity by Letting Go
Here’s a step-by-step plan to help us let go of whatever may be keeping us from embracing the good in our present state.
Let Go of Tension. Start with the body, any place you feel it. For example, say out loud, “I let go of the tension in my shoulders. I’m resting my shoulder muscles now.” Continue visualizing every part of the body where you have been holding tension letting go, relaxing.
Let Go of Impossible Goals. Let go of anything that depends on another person who may not want the same thing as you. Let go of goals that require people to give you something that is impossible for them.
Let Go of Unrealistic Expectations. Release yourself from the idea that it is your assignment to do things that are now impossible.
Let Go of Fear, especially fear of pain and fear of the future. Give it all to God, trusting that He will walk with you through whatever comes. Determine to live in the now and do the best you can with just this one moment since that’s all you can control anyway.
Let Go of False Beliefs. Your worth does not depend on accomplishment. Think of newborn babies, who can do absolutely nothing but eat and sleep, and how precious they are. Your worth is just as great when you are incapacitated.
Let Go of Misery, which is always optional. Sorrow can be a real response to the facts of the situation. But misery comes from stories you tell yourself about those facts.
I Am Not My Illness or My Age
Here’s what I’ve concluded: I am not my illness or the “old” person I see in the mirror. I am not my accomplishments; neither do I need to define myself by my ability to fulfill the expectations of others. In regard to chronic illness, I may improve or not, but I can find peace either way. What matters is living this moment well, being in the now, and letting go of the things listed above. Doing the best I can and feeling gratitude in this moment is all I can shoot for. I can’t control what happens in the future, but I can control how I feel right now by choosing to focus on what I still have and what I can still do. What matters is being me, fully alive in the present.
What I keep learning is that neither illness nor injury nor age define us or rob our identity. In fact, we become more: who we are can be added upon as we choose to learn from suffering, limitation, and loss.