What would you feel like if you recovered but others didn’t?

There might be an understandable survivors guilt. You know how awful ME is; what right do you have to escape and leave others behind?

A part of you might feel like you shouldn’t recover, that to do so would in some way be a betrayal. If you know others in similar positions, there’s a sense of solidarity and there is real care in being with others in the trenches in their times of need.

Does this feeling hold you back in your own recovery?

When I hear about someone improving or recovering, it brings mixed emotions. First, joy and gratitude, both for their sake and for mine. They deserve to regain all the health they can. Doing so also reconfirms that recovery is possible, which can be true for others too and creates a virtuous circle.

There’s also some jealousy and shame, plus fear that maybe I’m not recovering as quickly because it’s not possible for me.

Fundamentally though, despite these difficult emotions, I always want others to recover and it’s always a good thing. If I had a magic wand, I’d cure everyone’s ME/CFS on the spot. There’s no value in someone else continuing to suffer.

Why might we be afraid of our own recovery then, even if we support others’?

We might feel we’ll lose connections with people if our life experiences differ too much. There’s truth in this, but caring for others doesn’t require you to suffer with them. We wouldn’t want to inflict our own pain on them and the same holds true in reverse.

Increased health and energy gives us more options for connection and caring, not less. If being there for others is important to you, you’ll be able to do that much more at higher energy levels. Helping yourself is the best way to help others and your recovery can also be a source of hope.

The fear of recovery is born from compassion for others. Extend this compassion to yourself and remember, your health and recovery is important because you are important.