Chronic illness came into my life at a time when I thought I had everything in order. I was married, with a newborn and a 9-year-old, and looking at law schools. One day, I found my life suddenly trampled on by rheumatoid arthritis (RA) and fibromyalgia and after that, any talk of gratitude would fill me with anger.
I wasn’t grateful, and the very suggestion I should be seemed to declare my illnesses untrue and insignificant. My life no longer resembled my life. and to make matters worse, it felt like my pain was being discounted.
Long before I got sick, I was often grateful.
Even in the toughest moments of my life, I would focus on all the reasons I was blessed. I was raised to be appreciative, and I knew it was good for me. But after years of being sick, I didn’t feel like being grateful anymore.
I stayed angry for many years. Because I was sick. Because others weren’t so understanding. Because I had to give up on some of my dreams and because my marriage was failing. And for so many other reasons.