#RealTalk: What People With An Invisible Illness Think Of When You Make These 7 Stupid Comments

Kirsten Crawford
10 min readJul 12, 2021

--

Photo by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash | Can you guess which one has an invisible illness? Probably not.

I was twelve when it happened.

I can’t recall the very first symptom I had, or where I was when it exactly started, but I do remember the moment it became real.

I was in middle school with stomach pains that felt like someone had grabbed my insides and started to twist them.

I’m pretty sure I was in Spanish class then, because my teacher was really nice and compassionate when I told her that I felt really sick and needed to go to the bathroom.

I think I was crying the entire way, but what I do remember is leaning over the sink with tears streaming down my cheeks when suddenly it felt like I got shot in the stomach.

I fell. Hard and fast. My head hit the sink, but my hand immediately grabbed my stomach, and to my surprise when I pulled it away I was not bleeding. This was all…internal.

Something was really wrong.

So, I went to the doctor and…

Oh.

Is this the part where I tell you how I got diagnosed by some rare chronic illness that could be treated with medication?

Nope.

It took me 11 years to get a diagnosis that is even remotely similar to the symptoms I experience.

Eleven. Freaking. YEARS.

But this article isn’t meant to be a rant about how unbearable those 11 years were.

Instead, I want to talk about these common, misinformed, and ignorant comments regarding my invisible illness.

Why?

Because for the love of the caffeine that keeps me semi-sane, I hope you don’t say these things to a person with a chronic illness ever.

And if you do, I hope this gives you a little insight as to what is going on inside of our heads.

Warning: I’m probably not going to be very nice. But on that note, while these things, in my opinion, are pretty “stupid” comments, that does not make you stupid. Just misinformed.

P.S. I do not encourage violence (I just imagine it. Vividly.).

“You are too young to be sick!”

OK, I want to be nice, but…

Seriously?

Ever heard of a Children’s hospital? And no, this isn’t just for children who broke their arms at the playground or ended up getting cancer (news flash: cancer isn’t the only thing that children can get!).

Now, I try to be nice(r) when people actually say this to me or someone else, and instead tell them that just because they don’t want it to be true, doesn’t mean it isn’t.

Bad things don’t just magically go away because you can’t grow up and handle the fact that things aren’t going your way.

And if you are a parent doing this to your child, I understand how hard it is.

But shame on you.

You are better than that.

Don’t make your child sicker because you can’t handle the truth. Please.

2. “But you don’t look sick!”

When I first heard this from my so-called “friend” in middle school, I stopped in the middle of the hallway with my jaw dropped in shock.

I think what pissed me off even more was that after she said this, she just walked away. Didn’t even realize the stupidity of her words.

I think that was the moment where I contemplated stabbing someone.

Here’s the thing…

You can be sick and appear to be perfectly healthy.

You can constantly be in pain but appear to be pain-free (in fact, some of us are really used to the pain).

Maybe don’t be so superficial.

Oh, and once more for those who really need to hear it: Just because you don’t want it to be true (or you don’t want to hear a sad story), doesn’t make it false.

3. “You are just doing this for attention.”

Man, I absolutely love the attention as a chronically-ill person. (That is sarcasm, by the way).

I love it when co-workers get annoyed (or when I feel like they are) because I keep asking if someone can cover my shift.

I love it when I keep canceling plans because I am too tired or too in pain to leave the house and people assume I’m an asshole (by the way, fuck you for automatically assuming that this is about you).

And I absolutely love it when a doctor takes one look at me and tells me I should go to a therapist or psychiatrist instead.

I did, by the way, and you know what they said?

To see a medical doctor.

So, I’m going to say it again.

Just because you don’t want it to be true, doesn’t mean it is fake.

4. “It’s just stress!”

I’m sorry, but…do you know what chronic stress does to the body?

Assuming that it IS “just” stress, that is something that can have a severe impact on your health. But, if you are saying this to a person with a chronic invisible illness and if it IS “just” stress, then the side-effects of long-term stress has already caused severe symptoms that in some cases, could be life-threatening.

And please don’t say, “well, don’t be so stressed”, because that is yet another really dumb thing to say.

Because chronic stress and anxiety just doesn’t work like that.

For me, I have severe anxiety that I am desperately trying to manage with cognitive behavioral therapy and meditation.

And “Just try medication” doesn’t work.

I’ve tried lots of medication.

I can’t even take Ibuprofen. Or Midol. Or nearly every NSAID. Or Decongestants. Anti-histamines. Many cold medicines. The list goes on.

A lot of things do help, like regular exercise, eating clean, meditating every night, and so on.

I’ve also worked on having a positive mindset and to identity negative thoughts and behaviors and things that I think or do that are causing me anxiety.

I’m getting there, but unfortunately it feels like I am constantly drowning in anxiety. The only time I have ever felt completely anxiety-free (like I could actually breathe for once),without brain fog, and without feeling like I’m trapped in my body is when the world rises to my level of anxiety.

Like when I got in a car crash.

Or my cat got run over by a car.

Or my grandma was dying.

I never felt more calm in my life.

Because my anxiety and the world around me — in those instances — had, for once, felt the same.

I’m sure I would make a great paramedic, fire-fighter, cop, or whatever, but let me just say that I couldn’t manage a full-time job as a kennel technician. Or a barista. Or a pizza delivery driver.

I can’t stand on my feet 8 hours a day, 5 days a week, because it triggers my symptoms.

Sometimes even a part-time job feels like it is killing me.

But let me get back on point, here: Long-term stress damages the body.

The fact that you think this isn’t a problem is concerning.

5. “All of your tests came back negative. Congrats, you are perfectly healthy and normal!”

*face-palm*

I gotta say, whenever doctors say this to me, I wonder if they are stupid or if they think I am.

Because they should know that people with severe, chronic illness can still have plenty of tests that come back within normal range from your basic lab panels.

Truth is, I think half of them simply think that it is all in my head and are just trying to get rid of me.

I think the other half just don’t want to deal with me.

I am glad that not every doctor does this. (I’ve had two doctors that actually listen.)

But a lot do, unfortunately, which is especially noticed in the chronic illness community.

6. “You need to grow up and stop being lazy.”

The word ‘lazy’ used to put me into a murderous rage (okay, not really, but I do remember wanting to smack the crap out of anyone who calls me lazy).

This feeling only got worse when I turned 18.

A year or so after graduating high school, I had to withdrawal from my math class. When I took it the next semester, I failed it. And I love algebra. After that, I’ve taken a very long “break” from college without knowing if I’ll ever really be back. OK, I basically dropped out.

Around the same time, I was working full-time as a kennel technician (a job I loved, by the way). While at the time I had to keep reminding my employer that I needed to work part-time due to school and health issues, I was still getting scheduled full-time hours.

At some point, a dog ended up going to the animal E.R. because I had episodes where I lost the ability to read (or do simple math) and decided to hide this embarrassing symptom.

By hiding it (which is my fault), the dog got hurt.

I was given a warning and was on “probation”.

Not long after, a dog I was blow-drying had a seizure on my table, and died while my boss did CPR. I had blacked out and “took too long to process what was happening”.

I saw a neurologist this year regarding a lot of my cognitive symptoms.

The ironic thing? I think I was having a absent-seizure (or similar) while the dog was.

Anyway, I was fired.

And since I’ve been raised to not be a quitter (something that I need to work on), I was relieved when they fired me.

In fact, when they fired me, I just said “thank you” and walked out.

Because I don’t think I could have quit by myself.

But the truth is, I’m trying to “grow up” and “be a normal adult”.

But having a full-time job is extremely difficult for me.

Standing up and moving around for 8 hours straight is hard on my body. And trust me, this is something that makes me feel guilty and embarrassed because I’ve been in sports my entire life. Plus, I love dancing, biking, and hiking a lot.

It’s not that I don’t want to or that I’m lazy.

It’s simply because I can’t.

7. BONUS: “You should try…”

Look, I don’t hate on people who give me unsolicited medical advice (all the time).

Usually, I’ll just smile and tell them that I’ve tried that, that I’ve researched the topic myself or talked with my doctor about it, that every body is different and certain supplements only work based on certain cases (for example, IF you are deficient in a specific vitamin), or that I’m glad that helped you, but trust me, that is terrible advice to give to someone with my specific condition/symptoms that I face.

I get it, though. You care. You’re trying. Which is exactly why I won’t hate on you for telling me (in fact, I’ve heard lots of things that sometimes do help…temporarily).

But in some cases, people…keep going on about it.

And what I mean by that is, they keep trying to “sell” this idea to me truly believing that it will help me (despite the fact that no, I did NOT just tell you every single symptom I am actually going though. That could be 5 pages long).

And I’m not saying they are selling it by talking about their experience (because no, go ahead, I don’t mind), but I mean they keep telling me, “You should try it…”

Like girl, do I need to get nerdy on you and tell you about how certain medications give me a paradoxical reaction or become toxic to me? Or how I should definitely not try CBD or St. John’s Wort while taking medication without telling my doctor because it can interfere with medication?

Or that, hear me out, I’ve already mentioned how certain types of drugs have given me extreme reactions (and could be very dangerous for me), and yet you…keep…mentioning…them???

You know, I have a lot of friends with chronic illnesses.

Sometimes, there is something that has worked for me that I suggest to my friends.

But, I always start the conversation like this:

“There’s this thing that has helped me, personally, but it might not help you in your case and I think you should talk to your doctor before doing anything. Plus, you may have heard about it or tried it, but…”

There is no shame in wanting to help.

Unless you are pushy and rude.

Before I end my rant…

I have to say…wow. Are you actually still reading this? Props to you.

But now that my little rant is about done with, let me wrap this up by giving you some quick tips if you have a family member, friend, co-worker, or other loved one dealing with an invisible chronic illness.

  1. Listen to what they have to say. They already feel invisible.
  2. If you suggest something, don’t be pushy and rude. Every body is different, and your advice might not actually be good advice (in fact, it COULD be dangerous, despite seeming very innocent).
  3. If you are willing, let them (and encourage them) to rant. They usually need it. On the other hand, don’t sacrifice your own mental health, either. There is no shame if you are not in the right emotional state for a rant, especially if these rants are constant.
  4. Try to understand what they are going through, and if you can help them, do it. But don’t sacrifice your own health either.
  5. Finally, don’t treat them so differently, either. You don’t need to tip-toe around the conversation that they have limitations. If you do, then this isn’t exactly healthy (for the chronically ill, or your relationship).

Alright, final comment and I’m done.

If you said any of these things, that doesn’t mean you are stupid.

I know, I know. I kind of was rude in my little rant, but the truth is you aren’t stupid if you said these things.

Maybe a bit misinformed, but now you know.

However, if you continue to say these things?

…Well, you can fill in the blank.

--

--