I reflect sometimes how much my chronic illness struggles go completely unseen. Even by those close to my life like my mother, my brother, my close friends and the set of three neighbors we live amongst. They never see the 4-5 hours per day I have to spend managing my condition, whether its preparing food which I must home-prepare to avoid my countless serious food sensitivities and allergies, dispensing liquid medications, refilling pill boxes for each week, cleaning medical equipment, reordering supplies, refilling prescriptions, charging my power wheelchair, and the hours of rest I need each day to be able to be at all functional.
But they don’t see it, they don’t see any of it, on my worst days I am bed-bound by pain and severe malaise and weakness, never leave the threshold of my front, and cancel any plans I may have had for anyone to visit me. They only see me in the moments I am well enough to to grab my walker or wheelchair and take a little stroll outside, or the days I am strong enough mentally and physically to socialize a bit and see my friends and family. So much struggle goes unseen day after day, and I know the pain of that very well. But hold on my fellow chronic illness warrior, you are SEEN by me, and your struggles are known to me and everyone else in this club we never wanted to join.
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