I am an eighteen-year-old college freshman with arthritis. I have had arthritis for nearly nine years now, and what I've learned throughout the process is that chronic pain is not as "beatable" as people might think. I bring this up because yesterday, in my second week of college, I was rendered immobile crying in bed at the immense pain in my hip. Wonderfully enough, nearly every single person who passed my dorm room offered their help in some way, and though there was really nothing they could do, their offers of aid were greatly appreciated.
After my flare up, I really thought about how the people around me reacted, and how they've been reacting for the past few years. I can't say how happy it makes me that the people around me have become more aware of disabilities, and it really blows me away how much more conscious everyone has become of issues affecting the disabled community. As someone with multiple invisible illnesses, I have never felt so visible in my life. However, there are still a couple things that need to be cleared up.
1. You really can't help me with my chronic pain, but I appreciate your support.
Don't get me wrong, it's super sweet of you to ask what you can do to help. Sometimes, there might even be something. In seventh grade, I used to ask friends to open my locker for me when my hands were too swollen to do so, and more recently, I've asked for water when I couldn't get it myself. There will be things I need, but in terms of pain, there's not much you can do to help. It is what it is, but I appreciate the support.
2. No, that one time you broke your ankle does not compare to my chronic illness.
Hi, your one-time injury brought on by an external event is not arthritis. It isn't lupus, Crohn's, or fibromyalgia either. It just isn't. You know what caused it, it's a constant pain that you likely know how to treat, and it will go away eventually. The great thing about my autoimmune disorder is I'm in a constant state of wondering what caused my pain and why my body cannot function normally. When an able-bodied person hurts himself or herself, their body reacts correctly to the issue. My autoimmune disorder is a disorder specifically because my body is not behaving naturally; my immune system is literally attacking itself. So please, don't try to make that comparison.
3. The problem isn't just that I'm in pain, it's that the pain is always different and unpredictable.
Sort of following up on what I've already said, it's not like my pain level is always the same and I know why it is the way it is. The extent to which my arthritis is flaring fluctuates, and the way I feel when I'm actually having a flare up isn't an indicator of how I feel at all times. Now, some people's chronic illness genuinely cause them pain at all times. However, in my particular case, arthritis doesn't mean I'm not capable of functioning like any other able-bodied person at most times. It's more inconvenient that I cannot predict when a flare up will happen and, consequently, when I will need help.
4. Sometimes invisible illnesses aren't totally invisible!
Have you ever seen someone in a wheelchair stand up and start walking? More likely than not, that person has an invisible illness. Some people have seizures that force them to rely on wheelchairs, and some feel too much pain when walking. Everyone has a different reason for leaning on a physical aid, but the worst thing you can do is criticize them for not "actually" needing the device they do in fact need. Oh, and even though I shouldn't have to prove that I'm in pain, I actually can sometimes. Look closer, and you might notice that my hand is swollen, or I'm obviously limping. These are pretty big signs that I'm in pain, and you may want to take note of them.
5. On a mental illness note, mental illness can have physical symptoms.
On the topic of chronic illness, let's talk about mental disorders. Speaking as someone with diagnosed major depression and anxiety, I can say that sometimes mental issues can have physical signs. If you have a mental disorder, don't be surprised that you're having digestive issues and stomach pain, or that you're feeling suddenly fatigued and sluggish. It's not in your head, it's very much real.
6. Mental and physical illnesses can affect each other.
Sometimes my arthritis and my depression can play on each other. If I'm having a huge flare up, a mental symptom of that may trigger anxiety or a depressive episode, and vice versa. The stress caused by a mental disorder can also physically manifest itself in some much needed chronic pain. It sucks, I know.
7. Don't tell me how to treat my illness, especially if your advice is just to "rest."
As a general rule, chronic pain doesn't just "go away" on its own. It usually takes medication, time, and more medication for the flare up to finally dissipate, so don't tell me that I just need rest. Seriously, I guarantee that I know my body better than you do, and your advice is unnecessary in this situation. If I need something, I'll ask, but I don't need your WebMD generated answer for how to solve an issue I've been dealing with for half my lifetime. As I originally pointed out, your support is appreciated, but your help is likely not going to do much unless you are my doctor or someone I have directly asked for something.
