It's Okay To Go Home

A required course for all students pursuing their masters in social work is called Human Behavior & The Social Environment (shortened to HBSE, thankfully.). HBSE looks at  individuals throughout their life course trajectory. How are people influenced by their environment and, simultaneously, how do they influence their environment ? What stressors do they face and how might this change over time? What factors contribute to resilience? As the semester wears on, I find myself relating these concepts to my own life. Although I've lived with Spondylitis since I was a little girl, it's safe to say that the past few months have been the hardest time of my life. HBSE got me thinking... how has illness impacted my development and how is being chronically ill at age 24 different than other points in my life? 

In our society and especially given the current job climate, more and more new college graduates are moving back in with their families until they can get on their feet. Before moving into the city, I was no exception. It just so happens that my parents are my best buds, so that situation worked out nicely. My brother, sister-in-law, aunt, uncle, cousin, and grandparents all live in the area too, so after living far away for years, it was great to be home.  I'm truly blessed to say that home is and always has been a warm place to run back to. 


While reading a HBSE article last week about human relationships and attachment, this line stuck out: "The most primary human needs is to have a secure emotional connection—an attachment—with those who are closest to us: our parents, children, lovers, and partners..." I'd definitely agree with that.

The article went on to discuss how fear and uncertainty in a person's life can affect attachment: 

"When the individual is threatened, whether by traumatic events, by the negative aspects of everyday life such as illness, or by an assault on the security of the attachment bond itself, powerful affect arises, attachment needs for comfort and connection become particularly salient and compelling, and attachment behaviors, such as proximity seeking, are activated. A sense of connection with a loved one is a primary inbuilt emotional regulation device. Attachment to key others is our "primary protection against feelings of helplessness and meaninglessness" (McFarlane Sc van der Kolk, 1996, p. 24).  Makes sense, right? There's a reason we all just want our mommies when we're at our sickest.


Living with chronic illness at any age is unnatural, but at 24 the stakes feel somehow higher. Life is moving on and I'm aware that achieving true independence from my parents is common and expected at this stage. However, the unpredictability of chronic illness really complicates things. This is why - after living on my own in different states, different countries, and a New York city apartment for the past year - I've been going back home more than ever. When I couldn't stand up or walk on my own, my parents provided me with this physical assistance. Emotionally, they've been  there every step of the way: checking in constantly, listening to my fears, and helping me stay hopeful. Financially, let's just say they've helped with everything. They say they're more than happy to do all of it and I'm infinitely grateful. I know I've got the best parents out there.

I also know that I've spent too much time feeling guilty about needing this help and comparing myself to other people my age. I am not like everyone my age and I've learned to accept that I need my family a bit more right now. It will all come full circle and, at some point, I know I'll be there for them (gladly). As it stands, I need to stay near my support network because I've come to understand the fragility of my situation...it's also where I'm happiest. Especially when our lives have been turned upside down, it's normal to crave attachment, safety and reassurance from the people who mean the most. In fact, it's almost instinctual.

I thought I understood my disease and was confident that, even if there were unpredictable cycles, I could handle it. In a strange way, part of me is grateful that I experienced the full effects of Spondylitis. It was a harsh, but important dose of reality; the experience begged me to slow down and understand what I'd be up against in my life. It forced me to accept that I am sick, learn to care for myself entirely, and trust in the people who love me. Now I see that I'll always be learning how to live with chronic illness and, just as I'm faced with unique challenges at 24, I'll continue to encounter new hurdles as I grow and change. We all will. Undoubtedly, I'll find new aspects of my life affected by illness and hopefully I'll gain more and more wisdom that will help me cope. 

I pray that, with the help of my loved ones, I'll continue to learn from everything - the good, the bad and the ugly. I pray that I'll always find the strength...and I wish the same for all of you. 

Love,

Maya