This month we had a contest and asked some of our readers, members and volunteers to write a creative peice about What has BYDLS and “the spoon theory” meant to you?
The following essay is one of our winners and was written by Caitlyn Pilkington

I have to admit, I had to read “The Spoon Theory” over again before writing this. Of course, I did not forget what the “theory” was; I had simply forgotten the true impact that such a simple idea had on me, as a patient of an invisible illness. An invisible illness. Isn’t every illness invisible in its own way? Everyone struggles differently when they are battling a chronic condition, and everyone experiences varying levels of frustration and anger when nothing seems to be getting better. Everyone sleeps, eats, and lives in smaller steps than someone else, and everyone fights their individual battle.
While the physical toll of a medical condition is great, and sometimes unbearable, the emotional toll can be much higher. But you don’t look sick, right? You don’t have that sign on your forehead announcing that you haven’t slept in weeks. You may have gone to your early morning class, but no one knows you went home afterward and threw up for the rest of the day. The twenty-odd pills you take everyday are hiding in the back of the medicine cabinet. No one needs to know about those, not even your best friend. Remaining emotionally stable, even in remission is a day-to-day challenge; some days it’s simple, and some days it’s impossible. It is in that moment of loneliness that “The Spoon Theory” comes in.
I remember the first time I ever read “The Spoon Theory”; it moved me to tears because it was so simple to explain, yet so complex to comprehend. However, there was still that lingering thought in the back of my head: will they really understand, even after using the theory? I decided to try it out on my boyfriend. Short attention spans and Dallas Cowboy games aside, he really listened to what I was saying to him. I even took a spoon away from him when he walked upstairs to his room. The physical picture of losing something you need to survive is powerful, even if it is just a spoon. Without spoons, there is no ice cream, and without ice cream, there is no happiness.
After the success with my boyfriend, I decided to try it on my best friend. Obviously, I could not physically hand her spoons because she does not live near me. Instead, I told her to grab every spoon she had in her apartment. After the initial “are you crazy?” interrogation, she finally grabbed every spoon in her apartment and waited for instruction. I told her to drop a spoon for every time she leaves her apartment. Two spoons. Then I told her to drop one for every time she used the restroom. Three spoons. Finally, I told her to drop one for every time she ate nuts or a salad. No more spoons. After I told her that there are days where I lose more spoons than I need, she was silent. No words, just tears. She finally understood an otherwise invisible challenge.
Did the spoons represent the amount of daily emotional stress you go through when dealing with an “invisible illness”? Maybe. But what is the real emotional stress of an invisible battle? Is it crying because you can’t eat your favorite food anymore? Or because you can’t go out with your best friend on her birthday? Or is it the fear that
the closest people in your life will never understand? Maybe it’s all three. Or maybe they all fall into the third category. The greatest medicine for a butyoudontlooksick patient is a friend. As I stated earlier, the emotional toll can be much higher than the physical one. Medication takes care of the physical hardships, but a friend takes care of the emotional ones. Sometimes all it takes is a pair of loving ears and a few spoons to really cure an aching heart. I know it cured mine.
Keep fighting the good fight, spoonies!
Copyright butyoudontlooksick.com 2008