When Mums
(my 100lb Great Pyrenees St. Bernard puppy) starting acting up we had to figure
out why. Being sick has led Mumford to be possessive versus protective. So,
this means he needs brand new all day training. During the past few weeks, it
had been a very emotional time. Yet again in my life I had multiple people tell
me that I may be too sick to care for him properly. Two days ago, my new dog
trainer asked me “Are you too sick to do this?” How many times have I been
asked that question?
Something
kicks in, this fire inside me that refuses to lose more that I love. I took a
deep breath, felt my level 9.5 pain (rating based on how someone without my
illness would respond, on my pain scale I would say a 5), and stood up. Ready,
ready to fight like a warrior. I’m sure it wouldn’t surprise you that this is
something I choose to do every morning, but some things are harder than others.
Now I’m
going to ask you to consider some things.
Many people
would be surprised that this is the same person by just looking at the photos.
In the first photo I am 23 years old, 108 pounds, and about to attend my best
friend’s bachelorette party. What do you think when you look at this picture? I
am usually told that this was my “prime." That I am sexy, gorgeous, skinny,
desirable, and confident.
In the
second photo I am 25 years old, 190 pounds, and celebrating my best friend
being in town. What do you think when you view this photo? For this photo I
usually get overweight but pretty in my curves, thicker, needs more exercise, but
happy (fat shaming NEVER helps anyone. “Fat” doesn’t always mean unhealthy.).
Let’s dig a
little deeper. Look again at the picture of me blonde with what I’m about to
say next on your mind. I was unable to care for my sick body, and I was trying
to work full time. I was only able to keep down one tiny meal a day. I was sick
ALL the time. In this photo I have tonsillitis and a kidney infection. I had
also begun a new medication to help. So I was dizzy, nauseous or vomiting, exhausted,
sleep deprived, and cognitively I was messing words up and stuttering when I
spoke. I had chills from the amount of pain that radiating through me. Pain
level 8 on my scale. I was also
struggling with depression due to my illness. Right before the photo, I had to
evaluate the amount of blood I was losing before partaking in festivities.
Now let’s
look at the red head photo. Here I have gained incredible amount of weight very
quickly that my body won’t let go because my body is attacking itself. My body
is attacking my bladder, uterus, ovaries, vulva, intestines, nerves, and
esophagus. The attack is so swift and strong that my body begins to hold onto
every calorie it can take to fight a war. Here I’m on a cocktail of new
medications, everything I eat turns to fire in my body, I am still eating one meal a day, I’m exhausted, again
struggling with depression from being sick, and inflammation has taken over
most of my body (I’m just on fire. Even if you touched my arm I would internally
jump.). Pain level 9 on my scale.
Most people
assume that when I was thin I was happier and healthier. That is an assumption
a great deal of society believes. I can honestly share that I felt absolutely
awful in both of these photos. Of course the goal is to get to a medium size and
find ultimate healthiness, but as the doctors assure me this could take years
of struggle. I will never be cured so balancing my outside looks will always be
a problem. Oh let me tell you how much this drives some in my life, dates, and
society, crazy!
Having an
invisible illness can be helpful and hurtful in daily life. I am able to mask my
disease when I can, and want to. This means that I can look pain free if I
don’t want people to know. However, this one positive comes with problems to
juggle. When I hide my illness I cannot get the support I need, people have
higher expectations of me that I cannot always fulfill, and I can be treated as
just another dumb blonde.
When I do
come out about my disability everything changes. There is greater disbelief,
huge amounts of stigma, people treat you very differently when they know you’re
sick, people think they should share “cures” for my inability to be normal,
etc. However, on the flip side I am able to get the accommodations I need,
support when I need it, and more alignment with my core self. People tend to
loop me into the category of “poor sick girl who will never be able to use her
intelligence or gifts.” I find it so fascinating and heartbreaking the way we
judge one another based on looks and success.
On top of
dealing with what others’ think, most of us are juggling what we think of ourselves.
Who I am inside grows and changes with lessons learned. However, who I am on
the inside does not change regardless to what I look like on the outside. Even
though people judge me differently, I am still the same woman with the same
brain and heart. At times I scream, and even now feel the rush of frustration
going through my veins, because I feel trapped. I feel trapped in a body that
cannot express what I want it to or do what I need it to. I feel like a healthy
woman stuck in a 90 year old body.
Why do we as
humans judge one another based on how we look on the outside? What if we start to get
to know the true person they are inside? What if we began to respect people as
they are within their shell? Our bodies are a representation of us yes, but
they are just the shell we decorate. We
all deserve to be treated with kindness, respect, compassion, and acceptance.
When someone is vulnerable in this world we should be taking him or her in not
shoving them into categories and making rules.
When have
you been judged on your body? If you have an invisible illness when do you
choose to hide it? When do you choose to share it? What do you wish you could
say to those facing this struggle?
I give
everyone a challenge of thinking before they judge. A challenge to give out kindness and
compassion.
As always,
thank you for reading!
<3
Chronic Pain Warrior
