Shame

It’s been a while since I last wrote. Life gets busy, but I was triggered again today.

Shame on you for having cancer or heart disease or a broken leg. After all, didn’t you do this to yourself?? But no, we don’t say that to people lying in a hospital bed with these diseases. But we do treat the disease of alcoholism and addiction with shame and derision. Obesity is also similar. After all, if you only had some self-control, ate less and exercised more, you could be just as slim and pretty as society wants you to be. “Just stop,” is what they say. Just stop after one potato chip. Just stop after one thin mint. We can’t. It’s why we don’t ever take that first drink again…because we don’t know what will happen.

But my question to the delicate reader is when? How long must I continue to be ashamed of what I experienced? I’ve completed everything that was asked. I served my time so to speak. Do I need to be shamed for the rest of my life, my career? Perfectionism was my first addiction. But perfectionism is an unattainable goal – and yet it is expected of us. Those in the medical field are not allowed to make any mistakes – either personal or professional. This leads to a culture of shame and depression and anxiety and ultimately, self-medicating. We can’t ask for help without being made to feel that we are somehow broken and not good enough. This applies to society in general. We jail people that need help. Shame has never cured people of their issues, but only increases them.

Every time I have to explain my past I am made to feel that shame over and over again. I was punished in so many ways for what is considered to be an ADA protected illness. People want to take care of you if you have cancer or heart disease. I was shunned. I was made to feel shame. Instead of being offered help and understanding, I was made to feel like a social pariah. I was depressed and suicidal. I am stronger now, but those feelings can still be triggered when I am reminded of the shame.

The fact is that I will always be an addict. I just manage my addictions better. I avoid the feed store during chick season lest I buy more chicks. I am not sure what to do with all the goat milk and cheese I have but I didn’t breed this season despite my love of baby goats. I have a closet full of Magic cards…ok, not all addictions are managed successfully. But I don’t use any mind altering substances and I am really working on my sugar/food addiction. So am I any worse than the smokers risking cancer and heart disease.

I guess I started this because I am trying to get a medical license in another state and they wanted all the details of my recovery. It’s been more than eight years. How long do I need to explain my medical issue? How long do I have to feel shame? Do I ever get to feel good about myself again? Loving myself with all my flaws is a daily grind. Having outside forces continue to remind you of your shortcomings is emotionally draining. Is it any wonder that depression, anxiety and suicide are increased in the medical profession. I know I am not alone in this.

I hope I’ve given people something to think about. Someday maybe I’ll write the rest of this book…someday.