Over the last year of blogging, I’ve learned about many things. One of those things is spoon theory. Spoon theory was created by Christine Miserandino, In a 2003 essay, she described using the metaphor to describe to a friend what it felt like to have a chronic invisible illness (in her case, lupus). She and her friend were in a restaurant at the time, and a spoon was easily available to use as a metaphor.
Spoon theory has since become quite popular and is used to describe many forms of energy-limiting chronic illness, including mental illness, ME/CFS (chronic fatigue), and chronic pain. The term “spoonie” is sometimes used to describe people living with chronic illness.
The number of spoons available at the start of each day is not static; it varies depending on both environmental demands and what’s currently going on with the illness. When spoons are used up, it takes a combination of time and rest in order to generate more spoons.
The graphic above shows how some activities may only take one spoon, while others will take more. How many spoons each activity will take will vary depending on the individual and where they’re at with their illness at that point in time. For someone with a chronic illness, something that may only require one spoon today may require three the next week when there’s an illness flare.
Spoon requirements and mental illness
There are a number of factors that may affect the spoon-to-task ratio for people living with mental illness. Taking a shower might take a lot of spoons either for energy reasons or due to limited motivation. The number of spoons required to be around other people can also depend on a number of factors. Sometimes it’s a matter of anxiety or being overstimulated. Sometimes it’s more to do with cognitive slowing, leading to a delay in coming up with responses. Context matters, including details like where, with whom, and how many people are involved. For introverts, socialization is likely to use up more spoons compared to extroverts.
In the graphic above, getting out of bed just requires one spoon. When depression is really bad, that number might be more like 10, and it may move back and forth between those numbers over the course of the illness. I think it’s important not to judge the 10-spoon state based on the ability to do a task at 1 spoon when feeling better. If a task requires 10 spoons and you manage to do it anyway, that may count as even more of an accomplishment than when you’re feeling better and the same task is easy.
Benefits of spoon theory
One of the things I really like about this metaphor is that it’s very self-forgiving. It’s not a question of whether you tried hard enough to do something; rather, it’s a matter of scarcity of resources. It also calls for a very realistic assessment of what you’ve got available and the true cost associated with an activity. It recognizes the cumulative effect of multiple draining tasks occurring within a short time frame.
I also like how individualized spoon theory is. There’s no standard that applies to everyone, and it’s just as easily applied to physical and mental illnesses, or a combination of both. What I think is most important is that we be realistic in evaluating both our daily spoon allotment and the spoon requirements of different tasks. We need to challenge the “shoulds” that hold us to unreasonable standards, whether those standards involve comparisons to others or comparisons to ourselves when we are feeling well.
Another good thing about this metaphor is that it’s easy to understand even for people without a chronic illness. It can be hard for people to wrap their heads around what it’s like to live with an invisible illness, and this metaphor presents the illness experience in concrete terms without oversimplifying.
In terms of my own depression, I don’t think in terms of specific numbers of spoons, but I find spoon theory very useful in conceptualizing how requirements and resources are not static, and resources are finite. If I have a task one day that I know is going to require a lot of spoons, I recognize that for the rest of that day, I need to minimize spoon-requiring activities. Overall, I feel like spoon theory is a good fit for my own chronic illness experience.
Is the spoon theory something that resonates with you? How do you apply it to your life/illness?
You may also be interested in a more recent post I did on fork theory for mental illness and how it relates to spoon theory.
Visit the Mental Health Websites & Apps page for listings of lots of great mental health resources.