(Originally posted at BABble.)
The following article came up under the feed i’d set up for a google search for “fibromyalgia”: Cyberbullies ‘just want to be mean’. Um. Wait, what? How are these two things related? So i made the mistake of clicking on the link. Le sigh. WHEN WILL I LEARN?! Apparently never.
After being diagnosed with fibromyalgia, Phyllis knew she would have to find another way to experience the world.
I personally hate these sorts of articles, the “local chronic pain patient’s personal story as source of inspiration/schadenfreude”, where they turn someone’s life into a fucking after-school special. Oh, and the “find another way to experience the world” line pissed me right the hell off, because they’re not talking about introspection, re-evaluation of priorities, or learning to appreciate the flowers. Oh, no: they’re talking about escapism.
So she logged on to Second Life, a 3-D virtual community, and created an avatar. She walked down golden streets, admired oceans and beaches and made new friends. She even bought a beautiful ball gown so she could dance again, something she couldn’t do in her real life with the crushing pain in her joints and muscles.
Okay, here’s where i admit that i can be rather harsh with certain perspectives. I am all about making sure that one’s health issues are adequately taken care of, which includes keeping track of one’s spoon supply. If doctors are no good, i am all about taking my own health into my own hands, and doing what i can to improve my quality of life. I am responsible for my own health and happiness.
I cannot support her sort of escapism. Having a chronic pain condition does not mean that i can no longer live my life. Sure, my life will look very different than that of most folks, but i’m not interested in letting my personhood be defined by my pain – physically or emotionally.
Three weeks into her virtual haven, the bullies descended.
“Are you a Christian?” one asked her. “Yes,” she said.
They sneered. They called her names. They pushed her down. Somehow, they obtained her personal information, threatened to come to her Hazel Green home and unleashed viruses on her computer.
So far, i have no reason to believe that fibromyalgia has anything really to do with this article, other than to serve as an excuse for her foray into online gaming. Because you can’t play games if you’re an adult…? In any case, the religious fighting that goes on online is nothing new – it occurs in every online medium i’ve ever taken part of. It’s more likely they’re targeting her because of that, not because of her having fibromyalgia. But yanno, let’s just pretend that sort of thing doesn’t happen and jump right back into the whole escapism thing:
She signed up for a free account on Second Life and created her avatar, a slender blonde with Barbie-like proportions and cascading curls.
*twitch*
Okay, maybe it’s just that i’m hormonal, or that it’s cold in here, or that i’m hungry… whatever the underlying cause of my current snarky/crankybits, i’d be tempted to mess with her. I wouldn’t, mind you. But i’d be lying if i said the temptation wasn’t there.
Phyllis often wakes up in the middle of the night with excruciating pain. She had to find something – anything – to take her mind off the pain.
Second Life isn’t just an escape, she said. It’s a part of her life now.
“I hardly have the energy to walk from one room to the other some days,” she said. “That’s why I try to keep my mind occupied.”
Just so you know? I didn’t skip all that much; this article really does jump around like a cricket on Red Bull.
Maybe part of the reason that quoted bit irritates the hell out of me is because i’ve been there? Maybe this is ties in with the old adage “the things we hate most about other people are the things we hate most about ourselves”? I’m willing to accept that. My pain wakes me up every night, every morning. Yes, i have used different games as forms of temporary escape – and i think back to those times and recognize that i was miserable underneath it all. Now i still play some of those games, but i do it for fun – not as a means of pretending my problems don’t exist.
So the story goes on about how she’s being griefed by these “cyberbullies”: everything from computer viruses to harassing phone calls, threats that they know where she lives, etc. And of course, the wrap-up of the article goes for the gold:
It’s hard, she said, but she can’t stop now. She needs to know who these people are, and she wants to know what they’re plotting next, if anything.
And the only way to do that is to keep signing on, and to keep hoping that today they’ll have something better to do.
“I don’t know what else they would do to me,” she said. “They’ve got everything.
“I’m going to die anyway, so I’m not afraid. Right now, I’m just waiting it out.”
*blink*
Has anyone told her that fibromyalgia is non-fatal? Pain in the ass yes, going to kill you no. Tear down your quality of life so you might want to speed up the process of death, only as much as you choose. It’s not like fibromyalgics have some sort of corner on the death market. Newsflash: we’re ALL going to die anyway.
The minute someone tells me they’re just “waiting out” their life? That’s the minute i’m less inclined to feel sorry for them and more inclined to tell them to fuck off. You want to be happy? Then fucking damn well DO IT. No, you may not have the same kind of life you had when you were a teenager – but let me clue you in to something: no one does. The closest parallel i can think of is the sad chap who was the star quarterback in high school and now the only thing that makes him less than miserable is watching football games.
Therapy exists for a reason, people.