invisible disability Archives

In Chronic Illness

Why I’m Not Faking Being Sick; I’m Faking Being Well

August 31, 2023 2 Comments

“I’m Not Faking Being Sick; I’m Faking Being Well.”

Despite being sick, I’m never fortunate enough to receive flowers, gifts or cards. I don’t get anything; instead, I draw eye rolls as people become exasperated by my ill health. Rather than sympathy, people are accusing me of faking being sick for attention. Or using it as an excuse not to work and instead laze around the house all day, killing time. I never receive love or sympathy. Instead, I get disbelieving shakes of the head or glares when getting out of the car in a disabled bay. But I get no compassion. Instead, I’m the beneficiary of unsolicited advice; I should get out more for fresh air or to be more positive. But never hugs or presents.

Smiling, Looking Happy and Carefree…To Others, I Must Be Faking

It’s the reality when people cannot see your pain or the other symptoms accompanying chronic illness. They assume it doesn’t exist or that you’re exaggerating it to be much worse than it is. When I’m out, I’m smiling, make-up done, wearing clothes that make me look and feel good, alongside my colourful crutch. To them, I must be faking; someone genuinely sick wouldn’t be smiling, looking happy and carefree. A woman who is ill and disabled wouldn’t wear make-up or care about looking fashionable. To them, I must be faking, desperately seeking attention, wanting to stand out with my bright, fun and colourful crutch.

"It's the reality when people cannot see your pain or the other symptoms accompanying chronic illness. They assume it doesn't exist or that you're exaggerating it to be much worse than it is." Click To Tweet

Yes, I like that it is aesthetically pleasing; I love that it looks fun and fashionable. But it’s my choice of crutch, not because I want attention. But because it’s more comfortable than anything I’ve used before. I felt miserable using the uncomfortable, grey, bulky crutch handed to me at the hospital. It caused pain and made me look and feel disabled. It feels that this illness stole my mobility and took my youth, femininity, love of colour and fashion.

But this crutch has not only helped with my mobility and reduced my pain but has also become an extension of my personality. They have become stylish accessories that I can coordinate with my outfits and a source of joy. They’ve gifted me new confidence in using them. More importantly, it has returned to me a part of myself that I thought I had lost.

Illustration of a woman in an orange top holding a mobile phone. On the left of the image reads the 'I'm not faking being sick; I'm faking being well"

But I’m Not Faking Being Sick; I’m Faking Being Well

People think I’m faking. And I am. But I’m not faking being sick; I’m faking being well. Nobody witnesses it, but I see evidence of my sickness daily. The remnants of illness echo everywhere around the house. It’s found in the piles of clothes left unwashed and unironed, the chores left unfinished, my mobility aids scattered around, and the empty pill packets discarded on my bedside table. My immediate surroundings are evidence of my sickness, as is my body. The dark, purply bruises under my eyes, my ashen complexion, and the cuts and bruises that decorate my body.

"Nobody witnesses it, but I see evidence of my sickness daily. The remnants of illness echo everywhere around the house: the chores left unfinished, my mobility aids scattered about, and the empty pill packets lying around." Click To Tweet

But still, I’m continuously accused of faking or exaggerating my symptoms. But the truth is, I’m more likely to downplay the severity of my symptoms than to embellish them. The symptoms I live with may be invisible, but they are all too visible to me. Nobody can see, but I feel the symptoms constantly thrum through my body, causing persistent pain and discomfort. Those who judge, accusing me of faking, never know as I spend most of each day lying anywhere I can find.

"Nobody can see, but I feel the symptoms constantly thrum through my body, causing persistent pain and discomfort." Click To Tweet

Much of that time, I’m lying with my eyes closed as I grapple with the pain and the other symptoms that are hell-bent on making life unbearable. But somehow, people think that I’m stuck at home by choice. There’s an idea that all I do all day is lie around in my pyjamas watching TV. A duvet day, every day, by choice, because to them, I’m lazy.

Like Ariel, I Wish I Could Be Part of Your (Healthy) World

But I’m not stuck at home all day by choice. It’s because that is the only option. Being at home every day is incredibly dull and depressing; my single experience is with my chronic illness. The world moves on, but still, I remain trapped, my body tethered to the confines of my home, wishing like Ariel that I could be part of the world outside of my prison.

On the right side lies an illustration of a woman with dark hair wearing a green top and blue trousers with hearts on staring out of a window with a cat sitting next to her. The text on the left hand side reads "The world moves on, but still, I remain trapped, my body tethered to the confines of my home, wishing like Ariel that I could be part of the world outside my prison."

"The world moves on, but still, I remain trapped, my body tethered to the confines of my home, wishing like Ariel that I could be part of the world outside my prison." Click To Tweet

Every day, my head is full of wants and dreams, everything I yearn for and want to achieve. But all my desires and dreams are impossible to make reality. Because again and again, my body rebels against me, stopping me from living. I don’t choose to stay home every day; my body demands it. If I don’t conform to its demands, my body throws a tantrum to rival that of the naughtiest toddler. Living with chronic illness, FOMO isn’t the fear of missing out but rather the feeling of missing out. Grief constantly reappears as, time and time again, my body rebels, forcing me to miss out on joyous occasions I desperately wanted to attend.

"I don't choose to stay home every day; my body demands it. If I don't conform to its demands, my body throws a tantrum to rival that of the naughtiest toddler." Click To Tweet

Why would I fake an illness only to miss out on so much?

"Why would I fake an illness only to miss out on so much?" Click To Tweet

Accusations of Faking My Illness Is Not Only Limited To IRL

But it is not only in my real life that I have encountered allegations of faking my chronic illness. Horrible, vicious messages accusing me of faking being sick for attention or likes sneak into my DMs. Or even appear as anonymous comments on my blog by nameless, faceless trolls.

Writing about my experiences and sharing details of my life with chronic illness, some accuse me of talking too much about it. But some trolls take umbrage of my sporadic personal tweets that delve into life with chronic illness. Or they take issue that I don’t disclose everything about my life with chronic illness. As if, by not revealing everything about life with my health condition, then I can’t be living with it. Their venom, directed at me and my writing, calls into question the lack of photographs of myself looking ill. They question the lack of photos of the injuries I have obtained because of my symptoms. I feel like I’m on trial; the words I carefully compose and share on social media are evidence of my guilt or innocence of faking or exaggerating my life with chronic illness.

"I feel like I'm on trial; the words I carefully compose and share on social media are used as evidence as to my guilt or innocence of faking or exaggerating my life with chronic illness.: Click To Tweet

But if I shared my reality of how bad I feel, every post would be a self-absorbed tale of woe. Who wants to constantly read details of how unwell I am or how miserable I feel? I know that’s not something I want to write about and share. It is difficult enough to endure the worst of times at the hands of chronic illness. But having to relive it all over again on social media only exacerbates the trauma. So, I don’t share; instead, I become quiet, my socials inactive as my time becomes preoccupied with surviving the flare.

"It is difficult enough to endure the worst of times at the hands of chronic illness. But having to relive it all over again on social media only exacerbates the trauma." Click To Tweet

The Last Thing I Have the Energy For When I’m Unwell Is To Constantly Tweet About It!

I have little energy to do anything besides lying, staying in bed, and feeling terrible. The exhaustion penetrating my body makes me too tired to watch television, talk to anyone, or even move. I certainly do not possess the energy to lift my phone from its resting place to document how bad I feel for posterity on social media. Or, after a fall, my priority is getting myself to a safe space, tending to my injuries, ensuring they aren’t severe, and not taking a photograph of them to share online to legitimise my suffering.

"During a flare, I don't possess the energy to grab my phone from its resting place to document how bad things are or how bad I feel for posterity on social media." Click To Tweet

I hesitate as my cursor hovers over the send button, unsure whether to catapult my innermost thoughts into cyberspace. I ask myself if I can or should reveal the private, intimate details of my thoughts, body, and life with chronic illness. But I do, not for attention or likes on social media, but because I remember the crippling loneliness I felt for years, living with mysterious and puzzling symptoms I had no answer for. If sharing my story and giving voice to this experience allows even one person not to feel that profound loneliness, it would give purpose to everything I have and continue to go through.

I have received many messages from people who have read my words or followed me on social media, saying they feel less alone because of my relatable descriptions of living with chronic illness. Every like I receive is not because someone likes my writing but because they understand and can sadly relate to my terrifying predicaments arising from my diagnosis. So, rather than wanting likes on social media, I’d prefer to have none.

Living With Chronic Illness Makes Me Feel Insecure and Embarrassed; Attention Is The Last Thing I Want

My social media feed is often a highlight reel of my life filled with smiles, laughter and a reflection of my likes and personality. This a testament to the moments I’m feeling joy and positivity and well enough to post. I’m happy to share such times because they reflect the time of my life when I felt normal and not the sick girl I often am.

"My social media is often a highlight reel of my life. It's a testament to the moments I'm feeling joy, positivity and well enough to post reflecting the times when I feel normal and now the sick girl I often am." Click To Tweet

It hurts more than I can say that people think I’m faking or exaggerating my illness for attention or likes. Especially so when the said illness is always very present, evident in my life, ready to attack and ruin the here and now at its prerogative. It is apparent to me and those closest to me that I’m not faking being sick but being well. The symptoms affecting my mobility and balance are now all too visible to everyone that something is wrong with me, making me feel insecure and self-conscious. Because of this, I shy away from drawing attention to myself, preferring to stay in the background. Attention is the last thing I want, despite the accusations often directed at me.

Teal, yellow and pink stripes with white text reading Why Would I Fake An Illness Only To Miss Out On So Much?

"It hurts more than I can say that people think I'm faking or exaggerating my illness for attention or likes. Especially when the illness is always very present, evident in my life." Click To Tweet

Because when you become chronically ill, the only attention you do come by is unwarranted and intrusive. I can physically feel stares boring into my back while my legs crumple beneath me, my crutch feebly maintaining my balance and me upright. Along with the stares, I hear not-very-whispered whispers as people suddenly look down after my eyes unexpectedly catch them staring at me. Or, strangers approach me, asking me intrusive questions about why I’m using a crutch and what is wrong with me, as if my health were a subject of debate like the weather.

"I never want attention because when you become chronically ill, the only attention you do come by is unwarranted and intrusive." Click To Tweet

I’m Not Faking Being Sick; I Spend All My Time Faking Being Well

However, I’m often met with incredulous looks when I open up about my health condition. As if they think I’m faking it because I look fine, because of my faked healthy glow. It’s a cruel irony that the better I’ve managed my illness and the more adept I’ve become at hiding the signs, the harder it is for others to recognise it.

Because despite what you may believe, I’m not faking being sick. I’m spending all my time faking being well.

"I'm not faking being sick; I'm faking being well." Click To Tweet

In Chronic Illness

From Shame to Pride: Finding Pride in Disability

August 15, 2020 3 Comments

I am not sure if I’d consider myself disabled. To look at me, you would not immediately bear witness to the complications and challenges that arise from living with a neurological disorder such as FND. So, if I don’t look disabled, does that mean I’m not? At times I felt the condition did not disable me significantly and could get on with daily life with relative ease. Despite this, however, I am interested in events that raise awareness. Still, I was surprised about the existence of Disability Pride Month.

"To look at me, you would not immediately bear witness to the complications and challenges that arise from living with a neurological disorder such as FND. So, if I don't look disabled, does that mean I'm not?" Click To Tweet

Disability Pride aims to promote disability as a natural part of human diversity, and beautiful one at that. Photo by **Ann H** from **Pexels**.

A lack of visibility surrounding disability and issues related to it within society still exists despite efforts to change this. And perhaps a significant reason for my ignorance of the existence of Disability Pride. Disability advocates use the month and its celebrations, such as parades, for example, to raise awareness of the social inequalities that disabled people continuously face. To change how people think about and define disability. And to attempt to end the stigma that still surrounds it. From my understanding from my research and what I have read online such celebrations aim to promote disability as a natural part of human diversity. It is to turn shame into pride by redefining what it means to live with a disability.

Am I Disabled Though?

Despite living with severe and debilitating symptoms, symptoms that impact and reduce my quality of life, I failed to identify as a disabled person. And despite the continued experience of chronic pain, spasticity, visual disturbances, and severe weakness in the legs, I still didn’t see myself as a person with a disability.

"Despite living with severe and debilitating symptoms, symptoms that impact and reduce my quality of life, I failed to identify as a disabled person." Click To Tweet

I felt that there was a mismatch between my conceptions of disability and what it looked like and my experiences of living with FND. I felt that I didn’t fit into society’s notions of what disability is, but still was experiencing severe and debilitating symptoms. But am I disabled? Photo by Anthony Tran on Unsplash

The stereotypical view of disability is that of someone missing a limb, or someone needing the use of a wheelchair one hundred per cent of the time. The extent of the struggles associated with a disability easily seen and identifiable. Such definitions failed to embrace my circumstance and experience of living with FND. I still had full use of all my limbs, and only occasionally needed the use of a mobility aid. There were times when FND did not disable me significantly and managed quite well independently. There was a mismatch between my conceptions of disability and my own experiences of living with FND. And as a result, I failed to recognise disability as being part of my life with the diagnosis of a long-term neurological disorder.

A Person With A Disability I Was Now Becoming

But as I worsened and the need for a mobility aid became permanent, and a wheelchair became a fixture in my life; a person with a disability became something I now was.

It was hard enough to accept and assimilate a new identity of that of someone with a long-standing neurological disorder. Talking about my condition is such a monumental struggle; at the beginning, I didn’t fully understand it myself, so how could I talk about it with others? With the diagnosis, I could no longer deny that there was nothing wrong. It suddenly became real that I was dealing with a long-term condition and would be doing so for the rest of my life. I had to wave goodbye to me that existed pre-illness, and the hopes and dreams that I once held. Accepting the new identity also meant accepting the end of normality.

The increased severity of symptoms such as the trembling in the legs forced me to confront the reality of being disabled

Disabled was an even more difficult identity to welcome. It felt that by accepting this identity, I was also embracing the idea that I was different, weaker than before. And by embracing the title, I was suddenly becoming a burden on those around me.

"It felt that by accepting this identity, I was also embracing the idea that I was different, weaker than before. And by embracing the title, I was suddenly becoming a burden on those around me." Click To Tweet

The Narrative Surrounding Disability

The narrative surrounding disability is that it is less than desirable. For some, disability is possibly one of the worst things that can happen to a person; believing that it is a fate worse than death. A typical portrayal of disability is as an evil force robbing a person of their strength, ability and independence. Something not defined as different, but instead seen as less-than; and used as a source of pity or inspiration.

The media portrays those with disability as either weak and in need of pity and compassion or used as inspiration, being labelled as ‘superhuman’ as in the case of Paralympic athletes.

In the media, stories regarding disability and disabled people are either used to elicit sympathy and compassion or otherwise celebrating and applauding them when seemingly ‘overcoming’ their disability, designed to inspire such as in the case of Paralympic athletes. Remember the constant use of the term ‘superhuman’ when describing these athletes?

"A typical portrayal of disability is as an evil force robbing a person of their strength, ability and independence. Something not defined as different, but instead seen as less-than." Click To Tweet

Is it surprising that those living with a chronic illness is apprehensive in succumbing to the disabled identity? And how can we learn to celebrate and be proud of such a label?

Confronted With The Reality of Being Disabled

I find myself always confronted with the disabled body I now inhabit. It is evident when trapped in bed as a result of my legs refusing to cooperate and function. My identity as someone with a disability is undeniable after collapsing on the floor after my legs have unexpectedly given way. My disability is indisputable when I am heavily reliant on a crutch to help maintain balance, and when every step is a struggle due to debilitating pain and weakness.

I am constantly being confronted with the identity of a person with a disability now symptoms associated with FND are persistent and overwhelmingly disabling. I am confronted with it on a daily basis after falls, accidents and a lack of ability to do many things I used to be able to do. Photo by **Sofia Garza** from **Pexels**.

"My disability is indisputable when I am heavily reliant on a crutch to help maintain balance, and when every step is a struggle due to debilitating pain and weakness." Click To Tweet

When the invisible becomes visible, it is painful. It is so because of the curious and often judgemental stares from others, especially after a fall. The looks of people wondering what it is wrong, and hearing the whispers that suddenly stop when you happen to look over. Once, I happened to listen to a stranger accused me of faking after such an incident, which left me upset and humiliated.

How Can I Be Proud of The Weakest Part of Me?

Such occurrences leave me feeling broken, humiliated and weak. Even more so on the days in which I am unable to get back on my feet. My only choice of having to sit or lie where I have fallen leaves me feeling more exposed and vulnerable; my brokenness and the abnormality of my legs on display for everyone one to see. These negative feelings such episodes evoke as well as the negative stereotypes surrounding disability causes me to want to rid myself of the label. I am unable to take pride or celebrate that which makes me feel more of a burden. How can I proud of that which diminishes me? The thing that which knocks me down again and again? And how can I be proud of the weakest part of me, that which many are afraid of and especially fearful of becoming?

"How can I proud of that which diminishes me? The thing that which knocks me down again and again? And how can I be proud of the weakest part of me, that which many are afraid of and especially fearful of becoming?" Click To Tweet

In the media, the disabled become celebrated for achieving even minor accomplishments. A disabled person getting out of the house or attending a party in the eyes of the non-disabled deserves fervent recognition. But I feel that I have achieved more worthy accomplishments than just getting out of the bed this morning or leaving the house – achievements like gaining a degree is surely more deserving of a celebratory parade.

What Disability Pride Is

Disability Pride, however, is not about liking your disability. Nor is it about pretending that difficult and painful aspects of living with one do not exist.

Disability Pride is a celebration of disability and the differences and uniqueness of those living with them. It is not living with shame for our disabled bodies or disability. Disability Pride sees the worth and value of those living with disabilities despite the challenges and limitations that it entails. Photo by **Ylanite Koppens** from **Pexels**.

Disability Pride means not living with shame for my disabled body or disability. Disability Pride is dismissing the notion that due to disability, I am less able to contribute and participate in the world, or that I take more than I give. An opinion that the UK often likes to reinforce in the articles regarding disability and the UK benefits system. Or that I have less inherent value or potential than the non-disabled person sitting next to me.

"Disability Pride means not living with shame for my disabled body or disability. Disability Pride is dismissing the notion that due to disability, I am less able to contribute, or that I take more than I give." Click To Tweet

Disability Pride is acknowledging that perfection in regards to the human body is unrealistic; instead, it promotes the idea that it’s perfectly normal to be imperfect and have flaws. I am encouraged to love my body, wobbly legs, and wonky brain included.

"Disability Pride is acknowledging that perfection in regards to the human body is unrealistic; instead, it promotes the idea that it's perfectly normal to be imperfect and have flaws." Click To Tweet

Becoming Disabled Because of FND

Living with FND, and becoming disabled has forced me to encounter endless challenges, obstacles and adversity. The uncertainty I face every day of never knowing what my symptoms are going to do. And not knowing where and when my legs are next going to give way on me. Or not knowing what the future entails with regards to the illness and disability. There is tremendous adversity in not being able to go out alone and becoming heavily reliant on others to leave the house. Something that makes me feel like a massive burden on those closest to me.

As the symptoms of FND worsened; becoming more severe and disabling, the label of disabled is one that I had to learn to accept. Photo by **Ann H** from **Pexels**.

Since becoming disabled, I continuously come up against sadness, loneliness, and isolation. And at times, I have had to learn to advocate for myself and my needs. Such challenges have become so frequent they are a part of my life. I hate that it dictates how I can spend my days, and what I can or cannot do. A burden that weighs heavily upon me as it makes me feel weak and worthless. One I wish I could change, but despite my best efforts, I have found I cannot.

"I hate that it dictates how I can spend my days, and what I can or cannot do. A burden that weighs heavily upon me as it makes me feel weak and worthless." Click To Tweet

The Unexpected Gifts of Disability

Despite the challenges that disability continuously provokes, it has also given me unique gifts. Perhaps these gifts were more thrust upon me, and my circumstances forced me to hone them over time.

Life with FND and disability has given me resilience. Despite the endless hurdles and setbacks, I find myself able to get back up, dust myself off, and try again. This ability continues to surprise me as I do and achieve things I never imagined I could. Despite disability and its forced limitations, I can be proud of what I have attained.

"Despite the endless hurdles and setbacks, I find myself able to get back up and dust myself off. This ability continues to surprise me as I do and achieve things I never imagined I could." Click To Tweet

It has taught me compassion and the importance of understanding the pain that others withstand. Perhaps without my disability, I would not have otherwise had the chance to develop my writing, something which continues to give me purpose.

Us all need to recognise the gifts that disability can present to turn the shame to pride. Because if we continue to feel shame for our disability or chronic illness, then we continue to contribute to the perception that disability is less-than. A notion that not only diminishes ourselves but others also living with disabilities. Once more, it continues to reinforce negative attitudes of disability and those living with them.

"Because if we continue to feel shame for our disability or chronic illness, then we continue to contribute to the perception that disability is less-than." Click To Tweet

Disability Pride Changing How I See My Disabled Self

Yes, I acknowledge that because of disability, I have lost so much. I have lost the normal function of my body, my independence and my confidence as examples. But Disability Pride encourages me not to dwell on these but to recognise and celebrate that which I can still do, and the accomplishments earned despite the adversity created by FND that is a massive part of my life.