We all respect those who are in a wheelchair, have a cast, or exhibit symptoms that show they are struggling, but what about those who suffer silently? Millions are afflicted with mental illnesses and diseases that, while not always showing the symptoms outright, struggle each day with pain management. Some days are worse than others, and some days feel like a blessing when the pain is only a 4 out of 10, but without a doubt these silent illnesses need to start gaining the respect they deserve.
At a very young age, I was diagnosed with a tic disorder. There was no way to control the tics, and at this time it was very evident that I had something wrong with my body. I would twitch my hands, my feet, my eyes, something was always moving. As I grew up and began to realize I was the only one doing this, I began to internalize the tics. While this helped me socially, it did not help physically. About three months ago I was officially diagnosed with Tourette's Syndrome, a genetic condition that causes uncontrollable spasms of different muscle groups. It also comes coupled with a host of other disorders such as anxiety, OCD, and Restless Leg Syndrome, none of which help make my day to day life easier. My tic disorder had progressed to something much worse, something harder to cope with in every day life, and with it came a whole new world of struggle.
My symptoms are not the ones often depicted in movies - I'm not cursing (well, not unintentionally) all the time, my hands aren't jerking around, I don't bark. I have internal tics, including a tightening of the stomach and abdomen, tightening of the arm muscles, scalp tensing, squinting, and nose twitching to name just a few. There are plenty more, and at any given time I can be experiencing two to twelve tics. They become more intense by stress or tiredness, but they never truly go away for me. I have almost constant headaches, ranging from a slight nuisance to a migraine that makes me go partially blind. My stomach and abdomen are often in so much pain it hurts to sit normally or walk. My toes even grow downward because I used to curl them when I was younger. All these, and many more of my tics, add up to a life of near constant pain.
When I mention that I am in pain, most people either ignore me or tell me to take some Aspirin. This is normal, because I haven't been very open about my disorder before now, and most people don't know that the pain is pretty darn bad and happening all the time. It isn't their fault, it's the culture in which we live. We have been trained to see only the illnesses that are physically present in our lives, and many people don't understand the amount of pain with which a person with an invisible illness lives.
Let me put it into perspective: when you tell the doctor that you are a 6 on a scale of 10, you conceive that to be very painful. A 6, at least for me, can happen upwards of 4 days each week. A 3 or 4 is an average day, which makes it understandable that I have developed a tolerance to other injuries such as broken bones. I'm one of the lucky ones, my pain most likely won't get any worse than it is, and at this point I am able to function at a normal level. Others don't have it as well as I do.
Some invisible illnesses develop over time, worsening the level at which people can function on a daily basis. Some of these illnesses can cause people to become wheelchair bound as their life progresses, and some illnesses even end lives at young ages. Thousands, if not millions, of people are afflicted by illnesses that you can't see, and live a life constantly explaining to others why they can't do something, or why taking an Aspirin simply won't help anymore.
I am not putting down those with illnesses that are physicalized. Rather, I am trying to help educate the public on illnesses that they can't see. Next time you see a person in a wheelchair that can move their legs, or see someone who appears healthy using a handicap spot, stop and think. Maybe they are suffering from something you can't see. Offer to help if you see them struggling, and don't be so quick to judge those of us who look healthy. You never know how much pain we are currently handling.
