Invisible

Invisible suffering can leave us feeling misunderstood, because people have to choose to believe what is unseen rather than what they see. If only you could explain your situation to each person you meet to help them understand what is really going on. Then they
would know who you are, your intentions and the reality of the situation. Because saying “I don’t feel good” can be mistaken for “I don’t want to hang out with you”. Or taking a “day off” doesn’t mean sitting at home watching Netflix or going to the nail salon; it means laying in bed, praying the pain would ease up so you can function. Or an extended lunch break doesn’t mean time to take a nap, it's actually fitting another doctor's appointment into your work day.

Invisible suffering means living with and being in pain←both of which no one can see. Existing with invisible suffering means that you hope people will seek to understand, but unfortunately you find that people assume the worst.

If only they knew…

Who were you before PTSD? Who were you before the miscarriage? Who were you before the divorce, before the head injury, before the diagnosis, before the medication, before the chronic pain, before the addiction? Who were you before life got hard?

There’s comfort in being understood by someone who knows where you were and where you are now. It’s like having a childhood best friend who you are still friends with in your 20s or older. You have grown up together and there is something so sacred about that. Knowing and loving someone through all of their stages. They know you when you are at your best and when you are at your worst. There is less to explain because they’ve seen it and lived it with you. They know you. There's a comfort in that. You get to just be and you know they are with you.

As new people come into your life, there can be grief in knowing that this person will never know who you were before you were tainted, hardened, pressed. If only they knew you before life got complicated and you became exhausted. If only they knew the carefree
you instead of the fear-driven you or the pain-driven you. If only they knew how hard you’ve been fighting to make your new circumstances work. If only they knew that making plans is not as simple as it sounds, because you don’t know how you will be feeling, but to them it looks like you are non-commital. Or how long you have been putting up with the pain, but you just can’t anymore. If only they knew how much you are balancing and how strong you have to be on the daily. If only they knew you were smiling on the outside, yet crying on the inside. If only they knew that “I’m good” means you are barely holding it together. If only they knew the old you, maybe this relationship would be easier and you would feel like less of a burden.

If only they knew that there was more than meets the eye.

Maybe the greater grief comes when you wish you were that person before all of this happened. You’re grieving the loss of the light that was once in you, because now it doesn’t seem to shine. You’re grieving that positivity is no longer your default. You’re grieving how simple life was before all of the appointments, changes, onset of symptoms. You’re grieving how your body had never experienced chronic pain. You’re adjusting to your new financial status because of all of the medical bills. And you're grieving the lack of fun you experience because money now goes towards imaging, tests, treatments and appointments. You’re grieving what you have had to miss out on or decline because you don’t feel good. You’re grieving what once was and what now is.

BUT

You look fine.

This is what gets confusing. Some days you are able to keep up, but it’s hard for others to understand when other days you can’t. Canceling plans means you’re a flake, rather than the truth that you’re dealing with a flare up. Certain places are too overstimulating because of the lights and noise, but your friends only hear that you are high maintenance because you want to change plans. You had to call out sick again at work and your coworkers think you’re lazy and have a poor work ethic. It’s confusing because what once was a new pain is now your normal pain. When you live with chronic pain, you learn to adapt and live with pain to a certain degree.