top of page

“No, I’m Not Just Tired – I Have an Invisible Illness, Thanks.”

~Inspired by many~


Let’s get one thing clear: just because I look fine doesn’t mean I am fine. You don’t see me dragging my organs to the finish line every day like it’s the Invisible Olympics, but trust me—I’m winning gold in “Functioning Despite My Body’s Betrayal.”


And while we're at it, I'm also an introvert. So imagine the joy of constantly having to explain myself to people when all I want is to be left alone with my heating pad, compression socks, and a snack that doesn't trigger my IBS. Living the dream.


“But You Don’t Look Sick!”

Oh really? And you don’t look like a medical professional, yet here we are—Dr. Karen handing out unsolicited advice and kale smoothies like they're FDA-approved cures.

I might not have a cast, crutches, or a flashing neon sign that says “Please Be Gentle, My Immune System Thinks I'm the Enemy,” but guess what? My body is still waging war every. damn. day.

The Reality of Invisible Illness:

Let me paint a picture for you:

  • I cancel plans not because I hate you (okay, maybe just a little), but because my fatigue is so deep it feels cellular.

  • I might not talk much, not because I’m shy, but because speaking feels like running a marathon in wet sand.

  • I ghost people—not out of drama, but because texting back sometimes feels like climbing Everest with no oxygen. And again... introvert. This is baseline behavior even on my best day.


Common Invisible Illnesses That Might Be Crashing My Party:

(And by “party,” I mean my attempt at daily functioning.)

  • Fibromyalgia

  • Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (ME/CFS)

  • Lupus

  • Rheumatoid Arthritis

  • POTS (Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome)

  • Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome

  • Endometriosis

  • IBS/IBD

  • Depression & Anxiety

  • Migraines

  • Lyme Disease

  • Multiple Sclerosis

  • Hashimoto’s Thyroiditis

  • Diabetes (yes, it’s not always obvious)

If you're shocked by how many exist, congrats—you’ve just graduated from the School of “Shut Up and Google It.”


So What Do I Need From You?

  • Care without condescension. Don’t pity me, but maybe offer to carry the groceries.

  • Respect my energy levels. I’m not being dramatic, I’m being strategic.

  • Trust me when I say “I can’t.” Because pushing through can cost me days of recovery.

  • Understand that being quiet isn’t rude—it’s survival. Some days I just need the world to shut up.


Final Word:

If you're lucky enough to not understand what it's like living with an invisible illness, that’s great for you. But please, don’t be the reason someone like me starts questioning our sanity on top of everything else.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to disappear into my comfort cave, where heating pads are sacred, noise is a crime, and my symptoms can just chill for five minutes. (Spoiler: They won’t.)


 
 
 

Comments


bottom of page