Autoimmune disease broke my relationship with myself

Clare Nisbet
Sep 7, 2018 · 5 min read

And how I finally fixed it.

As we grow up, our parents dread the teenager spell — the moodiness, the sulking, the emotional outbursts, the grunting for communication, the self image issues from growth spurts to spots.

Fun times!

Yet for most of us we muddle through the best we can and get out on the other side with (hopefully) only some minor scars physically and emotionally.

But for some people the adolescent roller coaster seems to just continue.

It’s just such a gradual descent due to chronic illness that you and the others around you don’t notice.

I felt like was on this roller coaster for nearly two decades. I started getting facial spots when I was barely double digits. And when my hips decided to make a break for east and west, my skin responded with stretch marks.

Worst was my thinking. I was never one to come up with witty remarks or clever come backs and I realise now that I had the beginnings of severe brain fog before I even hit the age I got my period.

And the PMS! I got hammered every month with what felt like flu — I had a sore body, never mind just cramps. I couldn’t sleep properly, I bloated, I got an upset stomach. I was angry, I was sad, I hated the world, I hated myself.

I felt like I wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

Every. Single. Month.

In class I never managed to answer a question. I was slow, I couldn’t think quickly and if I ever got the asked anything by the teacher, my face would flame and the words got stuck in my throat.

The slightest thing would set my heart pounding in my chest: a loud noise; someone calling what sounded like my name; just the thought that I had made a mistake or forgotten something.

I was a list Queen!

It sounds grand but really it was a coping strategy because I couldn’t trust myself. I just couldn’t remember….so everything got written down.

Names, dates, homework, repeat, repeat, repeat. I would have to say things over and over in my head to even have a vague chance of remembering them. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t.

The worst bit was how I felt about myself. I was never overweight, but I could never seem to lose weight. Always chunky, never the sylph like child with delicate features.

And I felt fat.

I thought I looked really fat in certain clothes….and then I factored in the red, inflamed acne covered skin. Cue the clothes that covered me up, boxed me out and made me look like I was wearing a tent.

I never felt pretty, never mind beautiful…and no where near anything like sexy.

I wasn’t comfortable in my own skin.

I was severely uncomfortable in my body.

I felt no love for my physical form and deep down felt that this reflected who I was.

All these physical elements were symptoms of an autoimmune disease that was finally diagnosed in my mid teens: Hashimoto’s Hypothyroidism.

But knowing that didn’t stop my relationship with myself being shattered. The love I wanted to feel for myself as a person and my body took such a blow that my self confidence was pretty much at zero.

I berated myself when things went wrong; when I couldn’t remember things; when my brain function let me down.

I thought I looked ugly, so I felt ugly, and so I must be ugly.

My inner voice would slam me emotionally and be so negative and self critical that anything anyone else might say would pale in comparison.

And that low self esteem would push me to self punishment….because in my head and in my heart I didn’t deserve any better.

Its scary to think that small things, that mount up and go on for a period of time can lead the mind into such a dark place…but a dark dweller I was.

But you never would have known it. I played the game of masks. I hid it from the world. I faced every day with a smile on my face and cheeriness in my demeanour so that no one would know how awful I truly was.

I was fake.

It wasn’t me.

But faking it until I made it was what it took to get me out of the shadows.

I woke up and told myself every single day that I was pretty. That I had beautiful sparkly eyes. That I had a gorgeous curvy figure and a fab ass.

It took months before I started to feel pretty. But I got there.

And I started spending time doing things that I loved and made me feel good.

Simple things like sitting outside in my garden watching the bees and listening to the birds.

Going to the sauna and chilling out by heating up.

And I started meditating.

Being physically still and turning my awareness inwards. Getting to know who I was as a person and spending time with myself.

And learning the power of breath to calm and reduce my stress, which greatly helped to reduce my system inflammation and the severity of those horrible autoimmune induced symptoms.

I fell in love with myself for the first time.

And I cherished who I was.

And suddenly, I was no longer hiding behind any mask…the smile was genuine and the cheeriness was real.

I was no longer living in the dark.

My inner voice changed from negative to positive talk.

I no longer had a reason to berate myself and dish out punishment when things went wrong.

I believed I was more: that I was worthy: that I was beautiful.

Not just how I looked, but who I was as a person.

And my confidence soared.

My involvement soared. I asked questions, I challenged thinking, I put forward my opinions! I got out there, met new people and suddenly was taking part rather than hiding!

Now, there is no stopping this beautiful, curvy woman!

For now I am a permanent resident of the light that self love and self acceptance shine on me.

Clare Nisbet

Written by

Functional Nutritional Therapist, detox geek, autoimmune warrior, dark chocolate addict

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