Spoon Theory of Chronic Illness
Picture the tray that holds your cutlery. Picture it full to brimming with spoons. Now imagine opening the drawer and seeing only a few in each compartment. That’s Spoon Theory.
What am I talking about? Living with any chronic illness. Why spoons? Because that’s what was available to Christine Miserandino one day in a coffee shop when she was trying to explain to her friend the lack of energy she often experienced living with lupus.
Many life-altering illness are relatively invisible — fibromyalgia, asthma, arthritis, lyme disease, genetic disorders and so many more. Those of us living with one of these persistent conditions may appear completely healthy and fit at any given moment or on any given day. But you can’t always tell from the outside.
Ongoing, intense fatigue and pain are common for many of us. So any activity — mental and physical — can be much more enervating than it might appear. And hence, the Spoon Theory.
Christine wanted to give her friend a visual metaphor of her daily life. So she gathered up all the spoons around her in the café and explained it like this. Each spoon represents a bundle of energy. Most people have a large pile of spoons, that is, most or all of the stamina they need to do what’s required of them that day.
People with chronic illnesses usually wake up with a smaller pile, often much smaller. The primary symptoms of fibromyalgia, my particular condition, are fatigue, chronic pain and brain fog. So on any given morning, I might realize that I have only 9 or 12 or 6 spoons available to get through day. You get a feel for it after a while.
A morning shower might take two or even three spoons. Anything on my calendar — a Zoom meeting, finishing the taxes, even something fun — will use up many more. My activities require a certain amount of planning so I don’t use up too many spoons too soon — or I might run out too soon and find myself napping for four-hours in the afternoon. That means some things didn’t get accomplished, and then there’s more to do the next day.
One of the problems with chronic pain is that it is chronic. That means it doesn’t just peak then get better. It’s always a factor, day after day. That in itself is exhausting. Pain is infinitely more bearable when you know it will end. Like at the dentist. Or even the ache of a broken bone. On the other hand, I have gotten used to a certain base level that I barely notice unless it flares up. So it’s the dragging feeling of heaviness that usually bothers me more.
That said, I am grateful to be extremely healthy in all other ways. And before the pandemic, I was even quite fit (and will be again). Fibro won’t kill me or get worse over time. So while this little essay might sound like a complaint, that’s not my intention in sharing the Spoon Theory. I just want people I care about to see through the invisibility into my inner experience. And, on behalf of all the other folks living with chronic illness, remember that you can’t tell by looking — you never know what’s going on with another person.
