The Pain of Disease and the Triumph of Togetherness

 

* Looking back on 5 years of ButYouDontLookSick.com
There’s a pain that can be worse than any physical disease.
It’s the loneliness you feel when you see your friends go out and do things without a second thought and how that is an impossible dream for you. How the simple act of attending class or going out to supper becomes a mountain you just cannot scale, because of the varying weights that disease dangles along with it. It is so difficult when you are all alone and those you love are where you want to be and they don’t even understand the magnitude of how much you would love to have that normalcy to be there. I would love to be able to not deal with a single consequence and only reap the rewards of fulfilling that task with them, but I can’t always do that.


It’s the pain of being different—and no one understanding the magnitude of that difference and how every aspect of your life is touched with the tentacles of your ailment. You can’t make a simple yes/no decision on the spot because you have to think about its impact on your body and your future and how that impacts those you love. Nothing is easy and everything becomes important.
It’s having to think through the response to the question, “How are you?” Who knew that was such a deep question, but to those of us with chronic illness, we all know the struggle involved to give a truthful, but upbeat answer. You crave for others to understand that you love and appreciate your life, but that does not make a single breath of it easy or mean that you’re “doing fine.”
It’s the guilt that can accompany it all. Am I holding my family back? Am I putting too much work on my husband? Will my children understand how much I love them even when I cannot run or jump, or even just walk with them? Can my parents truly know how grateful I am for their protective care during the years before, during, and post-diagnosis, each day waking up trying to learn to be the best person I could be with this illness (and not always succeeding)? Can my siblings forgive the extra allowances I was given in retrospect? Can I forgive myself for not being able to do it all?
Like many of you, I’ve lived a life like this. I’m 28 years old and have been chronically ill for two thirds of those years now. So it’s not like we don’t have coping mechanisms that help tackle these pains. I have a faith that has been blessed by the inward turmoil that goes along with the pain (physical and emotional) and I have an appreciation for the important things that come with being able to live the simple life. Yes, being able to, not being stuck with it. But that doesn’t mean that there aren’t those moments. Those moments that you just would like someone to understand.
And here enters “ButYouDon’tLookSick.com.” I’m an innately shy person. Having lived a life of near hermit-dom for many years along the way, I suppose a lot of introspective tendencies have come my way. But when I read the Spoon Theory, like you readers, I was touched in a way that you other spoonies can relate. Someone out there gets it. In fact, not only one person, there’s a community who does. And perhaps I’m more of a lurker than a talker, but even I can appreciate the blessing of seeing (through articles, discussion boards, etc) that we are not alone. And for those of us who need to feel some compassion and understanding every once in awhile to get us through those rough moments, I want to say thank you for this site and the community that cares, that has evolved within its walls. Together we can make it through each day, and make it better than we could have alone.
Written by Carrie Beth Burns © 2008 butyoudontlooksick.com

  • *hugs*

    Thank you for writing this.

    Each article I read I feel was written with me in mind.

    In a way it was, wasn’t it? For we’re all here to support each other and let each other know that we aren’t alone.

    And I hope that by sharing everything that touches me from this site that it will in turn touch someone else whether they have an illness or not.

    Keep fighting the good fight!

  • Michelle Zuppke

    Carrie, what a wonderful feeling to see this article. I’m not shy, but I feel left out of everything, even when friends and family try to include me. I appreciate their love and concern, and their attempts at including me, but my illnesses take away any comraderie I might feel. I feel connected and understood on bydls, I am addicted to this site, and I love it soo much!!

  • Laura

    Thank you for writing this. There have been so many occassions where I have had to miss out on something that I really wanted to participate in. And so many times that people have been angry at me for missing things. They don’t realize that I’m more devastated about missing out than they could ever imagine. I’ve lost many relationships, both personal & professional, due to my invisible illness. If I could change the world, I’d make everyone a little more empathetic.

  • Thank you for voicing exactly how I feel about living with fibromyalgia. I am glad that you are getting the word out there and I hope that people who do not live with chronic pain will read your post and understand what it is like for those of us that do.

  • Glenda

    Carrie, I have MS and kidney disease. Half way through your story I stopped to email it to one of my very best friends who has MS also. We often talk about the gift we were given to be blessed with having each other in our lives because we truly understand each other and how MS affects our lives, our families – though we both have very supportive families they just can’t understand how we “feel”. Thank you Carrie for putting into words what is in all our hearts and minds.

  • Carrie thank you for making me feel better today. Your article said what I feel when I leave home. I can not walk as fast as my companions. When we travel, I am usually looking at their backs. When we return to the car, they get in, set down, and wait for me. Even though I am with other people, I feel totally left out. Their attempt to include me has failed. My longing to feel included has not been satisfied. I return to my home just a little sad. I have lost something-the ability to be and feel included.

  • Jennifer

    Thanks Carrie! You did a great job of putting my thoughts into words. That same verse runs true for all of us here…having a chronic disease does limit us from activities, unfortunately. It does help to know I’m not alone. And thanks for all those who help run this site and the boards…whether I can log on everyday or not, it helps knowing others are here. What a support group to have! We are blessed indeed to have such friends. 🙂 That makes me smile through my misery! I look forward to reading more of your articles Carrie.

  • Pam Smith

    Thank you, Carrie, for saying the things I’ve been feeling for several years now. Also, the feelings of being left out even when you do go with a couple of friends shopping and they walk back to look at something and you try to turn your chair around to see what they are looking at and before you can do it they come back and push your chair on, feeling left out of part of the trip you did decide to take part in.

  • Brandy Penn

    Thank you for putting on paper so elequently what we all feel and have to deal with. It is articles like this that I pass on to friends and family members. When they read this, they will gain a greater understanding of what my life is like. That knowledge helps us all to cope in a better way.

  • mand

    Thanx from me too; 40 and with chronic pain. I’ve always had a complicated relationship with the word “can’t” and it’s more difficult now. I have to say “I can’t” to things i COULD do… but if i did i’d be in a lot of pain, or have to give up doing something else. How much consequence is enough to make it true that i “can’t”?
    Still puzzling over this (i think i internalised my grandmother’s repeating “Can’t’s not in the dictionary” too well!) though it’s one of the useful, and interesting, ways in which i’m learning since my health declined.

  • Carrie,
    I am 25 years old and also suffer from chronic pain. Your article put into words the feelings that I never knew how to explain. Thank you!

  • Carrie, I too have lived with chronic illness for a long time (half of my life) and at 57, I notice that much of it has gotten easier. Not just because I’m healthier than previously (but who knows for how long?) because even when I was still pretty sick, it was easier. But also because life just gets ‘easier’ as you go along – if you work at it. And finding support like these sites are just one of many ways that we can work at it. I, too, am greatful that the internet provides us CI’ers with a way to connecte that otherwise wouldn’t exist.

  • Charlene

    Hi Carrie,
    I’m 37 yrs old and suffer from chronic pain as well. I just read your article and all I can say is wow, what you have said is so true…It’s nice to know their are others who really understand what it’s like to have chronic pain, what one goes through and what not.. Thank you for writing the aritcle.