I think probably the hardest thing I deal with on a daily basis in regards to the health issues I continue to face is the fact that no one can see what I’m going through. The term used by most professionals for this very thing is called “An Invisible Illness.”
On the outside, I look perfectly healthy and normal. I’m not on crutches. I’m not in a wheelchair. I’m not deformed looking. I don’t limp (on most days). I’m not shaking or have any visible impediments. The bottom line is that I’m an average-looking person who appears pretty healthy to most bystanders. In fact, many even think I look like I’m in my 30’s and are quite shocked to hear that I’m actually 44 years old. But sadly, on the inside I feel on most days like I’m about 80 years old. My muscles hurt all the time and I deal with a number of other uncomfortable things where each are totally invisible to the human eye. Regrettably, I occasionally have to go through struggles with people who don’t know this about me.
Case in point, I went to the movies recently and sat at the very top row of the theater close to the exit door on the 2nd floor, where there (a) was a bathroom just outside and (b) an area where I can stand up and stretch if I needed to during the film. Anywhere else in a theater generally poses a problem for me, especially when I’m forced to sit in the middle of a row.
So as I sat at the end of this row at the back of the theater the other day waiting for the movie to start, a man walked up to me and said “Sorry to bother you man, but do you have someone coming that is in a wheelchair?” I answered nicely and said I didn’t, but that I had some health issues that I needed to sit where I was. His response to that wasn’t so nice. He said “Whatever dude, whatever you got to tell yourself.”
Ironically, the wheelchair-bound person he was referring to was already there in another area of the top row sitting next to his wife. But he and a few others who were related to these two were wanting to sit where I was because it was more in the center of the screen. In other words, he was trying to use his family’s members handicap as a means to justify his request of me, instead of even once considering that maybe I truly did have a disability at the present time as well.
But how could he? He saw nothing on me that would seem I did. Even worse, I had to watch him eye me up and down and stare at me every time I stood up or walked out of the theater from that point forward, judging to see if I really looked like I was hurting or not. Because of this, I then felt I needed to purposely limp and put my hands on my back to show how much I really was hurting inside each time I did. You might find it interesting though to know that I would have actually given my seat up if another wheelchair had come in and needed a place for their companion to sit next to them.
Nevertheless, I’ve learned through all my health issues that what the eyes can see don’t always mean they’ll going to understand what’s happening inside someone being observed. What I deal with on most days is truly invisible to the naked eye, except to myself and my Higher Power, which is God.
So while I may not be on crutches or wheelchair-bound or show any demonstrable signs of any illness or chronic-pain, my reason for writing today’s entry is just to let people know there are others out there like me who are suffering, who are in pain, and who are disabled, but you’ll never know it. So try to not judge when you see someone in a disabled area when they don’t appear to be disabled because you ultimately don’t know what they’re truly dealing with. Instead, try letting go and letting God be the one to judge because an invisible illness is something your eyes are always going to be blind to, but that doesn’t mean it’s not real…
Peace, love, light, and joy,
Andrew Arthur Dawson
