We've all got that one friend, that one coworker, that one relative, that one roommate. The one who doesn't clean their room, the one who doesn't shower, the one who doesn't text back or go out. The one who bails on their appointments and doesn't submit their assignments on time, if at all. The one who doesn't do the dishes or their laundry. The one who exhibits little to no effort 9 times out of 10. I've experienced these people, and yes, at times they are absolutely infuriating. But I've also known myself to be that person. There's a difference between taking a night or a weekend off to relax and rejuvenate, but there's also a difference between not doing things because you don't want to and genuinely not being able to.
I know what you're probably thinking. "I would kill to have a schedule that allows for me to sit around and do nothing." How about "there's no way you can't possibly be able to do anything?" Or my personal favorite: "stop being so lazy."
There's that word. The word that blows through me like a bullet. Lazy. I don't consider myself lazy at all. I actually consider myself a fighter, someone who perseveres, an intelligent and determined young woman who sometimes is sidetracked by her disabilities. I was diagnosed with anxiety and depression when I was a teen, and most recently we've added ADD to the list of diagnoses. Before anyone judges me saying things I've already heard like "another millennial looking for excuses," know that I'm on medication for all three; Lexapro for depression, Klonopin for anxiety attacks and Focalin to help me focus. I've been in therapy since I was 13 and I've been to numerous doctors, psychologists and psychiatrists for confirmations.
Worse than being told to "get over it," "move on" or "pretend like it's not there" is being called lazy. As hard as it is for me to live with these burdens, I can't imagine what it is like raising a child with them. My mother and I used to fight all the time when I was a teenager, over the usual things like not doing chores or going to school. My mom thought I was another lazy teen who didn't care for her responsibilities or respect adults enough to do what she was told. It wasn't until things escalated beyond the usual "go to your room" or "I hate you" that my therapist realized she needed to say something to us both. People are rarely, genuinely lazy. That phrase, that sentence, was a major contributor to saving my ever diminishing relationship with my mother. She no longer thought I was just lazy, she knew something was wrong.
Have you ever felt an overwhelming desire to go out and be with your friends, but physically cannot drag yourself out of bed to see them? What about the need to complete an assignment, but blanking in fear every time you sit down to do it? Have you been hungry, but the thought of food made you feel sick? These are all symptoms of anxiety and depression. Depression sort of makes you not care about anything at all, while anxiety makes you care too much about every little thing, and having both is enough confusion to make your head feel like it's going to implode. I wasn't disobeying my mom on purpose, it was that the idea of getting dressed and going to school and pretending to be okay was so exhausting I physically could not do it. Invisible illnesses can manifest physically and visibly, and that's what was happening when people thought I was just being lazy.
You've heard it before, and you'll hear it again: stop the stigma against invisible illness. It's easy to overlook things you see so frequently on social media, or to scan past causes that aren't close to your heart. But the thing about invisible illness, and stay with me here this is a complicated theory, is that it's invisible.
Okay, all starkness aside, people seem to forget that everyone is fighting their own battle. "Out of sight, out of mind" seems to be something that most of society (that I've recently encountered anyway) has begun to live by. Invisible illnesses are not just restricted to mental illness; it could be a physical disability that others cannot see, such as diabetes or Chron's disease. Whether it be a heart condition that makes you winded much easier than others that's restricting you at work, or it's the fear to leave your home that's keeping you from functioning, these are both examples of invisible illnesses that people are often judged for.
The Invisible Disabilities Association said it best, "Invisible disabilities refers to symptoms such as debilitating pain, fatigue, dizziness, cognitive dysfunctions, brain injuries, learning differences and mental health disorders, as well as hearing and vision impairments. These are not always obvious to the onlooker, but can sometimes or always limit daily activities, range from mild challenges to severe limitations and vary from person to person." According to Invisible Illness Week, nearly 1 in 2 Americans (133 million) has a chronic condition, chronic meaning persistent or otherwise long-lasting in its effects. Approximately 96% of people who live with an illness have an illness that is invisible.
The Invisible Disabilities Association has launched a campaign, Invisible No More, providing resources to those struggling with invisible illness, and equally as important, to those family members who might not believe, understand or support what their loved one is going through.
Parents get tired of chasing children, students get tired of completing homework, families get tired of entertaining each other. Sometimes, people simply need a day or too off because they are tired, but if it becomes persistent in the life of someone you know, please do not be so quick to judge or get angry. Next time you call a friend, a coworker, a family member lazy, try to remember they might be going through something you can't see. Chances are if you offer them some assistance or modification to the task at hand they will rise to the challenge and surpass expectations. I would hope that you don't purposely skip tending to your responsibilities, so please don't assume that I would either.
