I’ve just returned from a trip to Santa Fe/ Albuquerque and let me tell ya… the come down is HARD.
Not familiar with the come down? Allow me to educate you, dear reader.
Come down – ˈcəm-ˌdau̇n
(Noun)
The state of burnout in which a chronic illness/pain sufferer finds herself after excessive and/or extensive expense of energy – either physical, mental or spiritual
(Adjective)
a) : worn-out, exhausted
b) : being in poor repair
c) : completely undone
(Verb)
a) : to be spent to exhaustion
(Intransitive verb)
1 : to cease to operate because of exhaustion of motive power
2 : to decline in physical condition or vigor following extensive physical, mental, or spiritual activity
(Full disclosure: I may have borrowed bits of this definition from the Merriam-Webster definitions of run-down and exhaustion, among others)
I find myself in this state after every “vacation” and it is one I’m willing to accept. Why, you may ask? Because the special memories are worth it to me. I accept all the planning – of activity, medication scheduling, and rest breaks. I accept the occasional guilt of not being able to do/see all my partner or I may have wanted to (and the ensuing guilt over feeling the guilt). I accept all the extra luggage I must plan and bring: medications (pre-distributed in all their many time-allotted slots), assorted pillows to support me on long car rides, clothes that are comfortable enough for allodynia-riddled skin and sore fibromyalgia muscles, shoes appropriate for tender, neuropathic feet, heat pad and/or ice packs for recovery, water and caffeinated beverages to propel me through the day and hold off pain headaches, and distractions to help me cope when I am overcome with pain and have to stop physical activities.
And.
I accept the come down.
While vacations truly are work for me (before, during, and after), the sweet memories I can relive as I scroll through photos on the toughest of days are beyond worth it. Additionally, on those hard days, my husband and I can recall those memories together, discuss our favorite moments, tell each other stories, and know there are better times behind and before us. While I will have a trace of the memory of being in terrible pain and not able to do as much as I would have liked, my anecdotal history has proven to me that the pleasant memories I have will far outweigh those of pain. And that, my friend, makes the preparation and yes, the come down – every little bit- worth it. And one day (though not any time soon) I’ll do it all again.
As to how to cope with the come down in the meantime? I take a self-prescribed several days of extensive rest, stretching, hydrating, hot showers or baths, and positive distractions in the form of reading, music, journaling, coloring, or passive art projects I can do while reclining. In summary, I do all I can to treat my body with gentleness and gratitude for all it carried me through in the days prior.
Have you or a loved one experienced the come down? If so, how do you cope with it? What is a vacation memory that made it all worth it?
Chronically Speaking 