FOMO and chronic illness

It’s not a phrase I use, so in case you’re not familar with it, FOMO is the fear of missing out.

Meg, from That Hummingbird Life, sent out an email recently about FOMO:

Whether it’s feeling like we should have done things in the past, getting caught up in thinking we need to do/buy something because we’ll regret it if we don’t, or feeling like the odd one out, it’s fair to say we’ve all experienced it.

It’s something I’ve had to deal with, although I’m not sure I’ve been especially conscious of the process, because of my pain. There are obviously many things I can’t do and I have to be more choosy about what I do do. Which almost makes it easier because there are physical consequences to trying to do everything and I know I physically can’t do everything I want to do. One, probably less helpful, way I have dealt with it is by mentally blocking out things which aren’t an option. Most of the time I don’t think about me going on holiday, even when talking about other people’s holidays, because it’s probably not going to happen.

More helpfully, I sort of approach FOMO in terms of compersion or shepping naches. The first is a term used mostly in terms of poly relationships and the second is a Yiddish phrase. Both essentially mean getting pleasure from seeing someone else get pleasure. For compersion, this might be feeling all full of love when you see your partner is in love with their other partner. For the Yiddish, it seems to be used mostly for the pride or gratification that a parent/teacher/grandparent gets when they see their child enjoying themselves or achieving something.

This can be tricky, but for me it basically means that I don’t get jealous when someone is doing something awesome (well, I do sometimes…). I see it as something that is making them really happy and I am happy when my loved ones are happy. We are a very individualistic society and are socialised to think “I want that” when we see someone with something, even if we don’t actually want it. I think part of FOMO is tied into that. When someone is telling you about something brilliant they’ve done or are doing, a part of us leaps to I want that or I should want that or I should do that. By doing this, we miss the awesomeness of just basking in the glow of someone who feels great.

Maybe my thought process might help explain..

Person A: I have just been on a great holiday…
Person B: Oh, I’m so jealous, I really want/need a holiday (this may be said, thought or internalised somehow)
Person C: Oh that’s great but shit, I should be going on holiday/wanting to go on holiday/all my friends love travelling what’s wrong with me…
Person D: Brilliant, tell me more about it, I’d love to hear the details and see some pics (might have a moment of longing or holiday lust but goes back to listening to person A and living the experience through them. I want to say living vicariously but that, to me, has negative connotations.)

Person B and C are probably going to experience a bit of FOMO and think they should be going on holiday and possibly to the same part of the world because A had a great time and they want to join in.

Person D is getting the magic of A retelling the adventure and seeing A smile and engaging with A. Person D is experiencing something different to the holiday itself but it’s still it’s own magic. Person D, for whatever reason, hasn’t got bogged down in what they don’t have or aren’t doing. They are focusing on what they do have which is a great friend who’s wanting to share, rather than what they don’t or can’t have, namely a holiday.

Person D is probably more like a parent filled with delight when their child comes home from school full of excitment about their spelling test going well and having a great time playing with their friends and having been invited to someone’s house for tea for the first time.

We are so socialised into needing everything for ourselves that when we hear about something we can’t be part of, we sulk and we kick off. Not because we want the thing, but because we are conditioned to want everything, especially if someone else has it and we don’t.

I think, for me, the other important aspect of how I approach FOMO is prioritising! I have limited energy and know that if I do something on monday, I need to rest on Tuesday etc. I have no choice. If I ignore this and book something in monday and tuesday, tuesday’s thing will probably end up a write off. So I have to figure out what I want to do most, and this is helpful in living authentically anyway. So I’m faced with x and y, which initially I want to go to both of. But then I stop and think and maybe x is more interesting or y is similar to something I’ve done recently or actually, I didn’t want to do y but I felt I should. X is the winner! And I will enjoy x a lot more than if I tried to do x and y because I would break myself doing both and would spend all of x worrying about how I would get through y. Essentially, I do fewer things but with more heart. The same goes for friends, I go for quality over quanitity both in terms of the actual people and the way I spend time with them.

And if there’s something that you do really want to do, do it. Or find a way to bring it into your life. Or do bits of it. Like if we’re talking about a party, go for the first hour, really throw yourself into it and then head home. Basically, slow down and think about what you actually want. And be grateful for the things that you do experience. And change your viewpoint. Instead of thinking a half day trip is stupid and not anywhere near as good as a two week holiday, make it a big deal if it’s a big deal for you. Take photos, treat yourself to something as a reminder, make a collage afterwards etc. Treat it with the same respect as a holiday.

I used to spend entire days by the sea, long day trips that I loved. As my pain got worse, I couldn’t cope with it anymore and got grumpy with myself when I had to leave after a few hours. I ended up ruining half day trips with dreams and longings for full day trips. Over time I realised I was shooting myself in the foot and started to let go of what I used to be able to do and focus instead on making sure my shorter trips were great in themselves. I had to stop comparing them to my full days and instead begin treating them as something in their own right. I no longer try and do everything I want to but instead I focus on what I want to do most and enjoy it for itself.

There is no way round it, when you have a chronic illness, you are going to miss out on things. But by focusing on missing out, you miss out on what you can enjoy.

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