Control vs. Acceptance

In the dedication of one of his books on cognitive-behavioral therapy and anxiety disorders, noted psychologist David Barlow wrote the following: "To my children. May you retain your illusion of control."

May you retain your illusion of control.

Although I last read that book some twenty years ago, its dedication has remained with me, almost haunting me in its simplicity and its complexity.

I always knew from an early age that I did not retain complete control of my life. Divorces, deaths, and multiple moves over which I had no influence or say taught me that sometimes, you have to roll with the punches. You don't necessarily have to like them, but to survive, you've got to roll with them.

Of course, I did believe that there were certain things over which I did, in fact, have control: things like whether I ate my lunch, whether I did my homework, where I kicked the kickball, whether I ran or walked down the hallway, how fast I threw a pitch....

You see, mostly, I believed that I had control over my body and what I did with it. Oh sure, there were little incidents in which I temporarily lost control -- a sprained ankle and a trigger thumb, for example -- but nothing significant from which I wouldn't eventually recover and bound up joyfully.

It's pretty safe to say that I believed that at least my body, if not my life, was easily within my sphere of influence.

That belief wavered slightly when my mother developed melanoma about 15 years ago. Cancer, after all, represents cell growth that is literally out of one's control. If it could happen to my mother.... However, since the melanoma (thankfully) was discovered early, my brazen belief in bodily management solidified once more. In other words, I retained my illusion of control.

It wasn't until I was diagnosed with RA that my "reality" was revealed to be a virtual one, and I finally recognized that more frequently than we know, even our own bodies can be outside our spheres of influence.

It was a sobering realization, but not a hopeless one. Rolling with the punches still works, as does struggling to once again maintain or even expand my sphere of influence. The trick for me is to find a balance between control and acceptance. When I try to control everything, I quickly become "delusional." But when I accept every bit of crap that's flung my way, I just as quickly become helpless and hopeless. Yes, balance is the key.

And balance definitely is something that people living with RA need to learn. Because our lives hang in it.

Comments

[Jo-Ann]

Beautifully said!

[MissDazey]

I found your blog via Kelly's.

This says how I find completely. I am looking forward to reading more of your writings.

[Terry]

Acceptance is easier when my RA allows me just a little bit of control. Well written post.