I was planning on a different topic for today but guys, I HURT. I was very dumb. Went to the little one’s track meet and applied sunscreen in the car. We’d been there about two hours when I started getting UNCOMFORTABLY hot on my legs. About an hour after that, I tell hubby I think I am burning and we get to the shade but damage was done and I’m so red, and SWOLLEN! I even took Ibu (not cool with the CKD but sporadic use should be ok.) So I needed to research laughing, to remind myself of its existence and that it wont hurt like this forever lol.

So, in the wild ride of managing fibromyalgia and bipolar disorder, self-care isn’t just a luxury—it’s a necessity. However,as with most of the challenges we face as chronic illness patients, our solution isnt going to look like everyone’s solution. We have to take each self care tip and tweak it, bend it like we’re working clay, shape it into a mold that fits our goals and our realistic expectations This is where the unexpected hero, sarcasm, comes into play.

Research has shown that humor, including sarcasm which is a personal favorite of mine, can be a powerful coping mechanism for individuals navigating the complexities of chronic conditions like fibromyalgia and bipolar disorder. Studies indicate that humor can provide numerous psychological and physiological benefits, from reducing stress and anxiety to boosting mood and resilience. It’s not just about sharing a laugh; it’s about finding moments of levity amidst the pain and chaos, reclaiming a sense of control in a situation that often feels overwhelming. Laughing has a very unique way of replenishing my spoons. I’ll be just DONE and something so absurd or silly happens and I find myself getting the energy to handle my shit.

For many of us, sarcasm isn’t just a form of humor—it’s a language of survival. It’s the witty retort we offer when faced with yet another flare-up or mood swing. It’s the ironic commentary we make to cope with the absurdity of our circumstances. Like truly ‘if I don’t laugh, I’ll cry’ moments. Sarcasm becomes a tool for self-expression, a way to assert our identity and reclaim power in moments when it feels like our bodies and minds are betraying us. Making someone laugh is a balm for me, maybe I CAN’T laugh, when I make someone else laugh I can’t help but to join in no matter how much I hurt.

Personally, I’ve found that incorporating sarcasm into my self-care routine has been both liberating and empowering. When the pain flares up and the depressive fog descends, sarcasm becomes my armor, shielding me from the weight of my symptoms. My friends and family think I’m having a good day, when in reality I feel like I’m coming out of my skin. Its only acceptable to hide from the world and cry under your desk in the fetal position for a limited amount of time. It’s not about denying the reality of my conditions; it’s about refusing to let them define me entirely.

You know, one of the coolest things about sarcasm is how it can turn the most ordinary moments into chances to crack up and bond. Like, picture this: you’re swapping sarcastic memes with other spoonies, or you’re joking about the utter ridiculousness of dealing with medical red tape. It’s like this secret language we share, right? It brings us together, helps us feel less alone in the chaos of chronic illness. It’s like saying, “Hey, I get it, and I’m right there with you.

Of course, sarcasm isn’t a cure all, and there are times when a good laugh won’t magically erase the pain or stabilize my mood. But by integrating sarcasm into my self-care toolkit, I’ve learned to embrace the messy, imperfect journey of living with chronic illness. It’s about finding joy amidst the pain, reclaiming my power in a world that often feels beyond my control. So, here’s to the healing power of sarcasm—may we always find reasons to laugh, even when the odds are stacked against us.
Til next time gang, be kind to yourself and each other