If we can't see it, it must not be there

"You must be feeling so much better, you're looking so good!"

Isn't it strange - there's not much else that can take an otherwise good day and turn it sideways...

An Invisible Illness is hard. Not only are you sick and probably tired, but unless you go a few days without a shower, or forget to apply your makeup, nobody can see that you aren't your old self. You try hard to be stoic, ignoring the pain and working through the waves of tiredness and nausea so strong it may knock you to your knees. Still, you smile when you know someone is looking.

The problem is, if you do what you feel like, your water bill will be cut in half and you'll forget which brand of mascara you prefer. You'll also probably be labeled as depressed, coming from the lowest end of the socio-economic ladder, and if you're very unlucky, a drug seeker or malingerer. If your invisible illness is chronic pain, you'll likely experience being fired by at least one doctor as well. Either way, chances are your family will be something less than supportive, and your chances at becoming a divorce statistic are extremely high.

I'll never forget the feeling of helplessness when my doctor refused to test me for something because I looked "...waaay too good", and the mixed feelings when the results were bad news.

He was right, I did look good. No, really...

After sitting in the plastic chair in my shower for a half hour shampooing the last 2 days worth of grease and grit, then laying on my bed to rest before getting dressed, then resting my elbow above my head against the wall so I could comb my wash-and-wear hair with only 3 breaks instead of 4, I did look pretty good if I didn't say so myself.

Of course, that was only because I had the time to get dressed with the "good" clothes I laid out the night before, take a nap, eat, put makeup on using every secret and chemical known to (wo)man, take another short nap, drive the hour to the office with only one 15 minute break on the side of the road, then nap or zone out intermittently for another hour behind dark stylish sunglasses while sitting in the fluorescent lighted lobby pretending to read a magazine. The last 48 hrs had been centered on this 10 minutes, in this office chair.

The well-practiced smile and lilt in my voice as I said "hello" when he walked in probably helped as did the joke I'd already practiced on my hubby that morning and the nurse when she weighed me.

"Gee, you're so lucky you've stayed so skinny."

Well, that's just what I wanted to hear after defiantly trying to eat as many calories as I could hold these last 3 months, then vomiting most of them up when the nausea became too severe. That one comment is second only to my overall family favorite:

"You look like death warmed over/horrible/awful. Quit being anorexic and eat something!"

Yep, I have an invisible chronic illness that has taken me from the person I always intended to be, to someone who is merely surviving. It has ruined my kids' childhood, and nearly broken my loving husband. It's driven away friends and family, taken away my job and nearly everything I love...

...but hey, I look great, don't I?!

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I think it’s important to be involved in invisible illness week because... it's worth blogging about!