Alternative title : I’m sure there is a sadistic asshole who removes one of the central pieces from jigsaws in order to test the recipients patience … I mean, it’s all well and good having everything else in order but if you can’t complete it you kinda feel like you’re missing something significant, even if it is just Snoopy’s inane grin.
If you read my last post you’ll be aware that I’ve been a little bit up shit creak without a paddle recently … My Mental Health has taken a nose dive and my Migraines have taken that opportunity to thoroughly kick my backside. There is nothing quite like being blind in your right eye at 4am while your Anxiety runs through a multitude of possible reasons for it (courtesy of Google’s Guide to Self Diagnosing) while the actual cause (the sneaky Migraine) smirks away in the darkness at the ensuing panic … Loki has nothing on those evil cretins!
I’ve been trying to stick to my routine, my usual 9am-5pm … After all, the routine is a source of stability in an otherwise unstable situation. Proving I can function when every inch of my being tells me that I don’t want to function. It serves as a distraction and hell, I’m good at what I do.
But sometimes being good at what you do just isn’t enough because no matter how much paperwork you clear or how many problems you solve, to them you’re lacking something. Something of note.
What is noted is about me is ‘the lack of happy’ in my mood. There is the expectation that I should be able to plaster a smile on and throw out a joyous tone to my voice regardless of how I actually feel … Now, isn’t that what got me into this situation in the first place? Hiding behind the pretense that everything consisted of shimmering glitter and cuddly kittens and unicorn farts while rejecting how I really felt only really resulted in me getting a massive kick to the flange when the facade dissolved.
What isn’t noted is the pain raging through my neurons, the surge of complete hopelessness, the lack of sleep, the ache of misery, the agony as I open my eyes, the sheer torture that noise brings, the intrusive thoughts telling me that I need to just run, the heightened fear from trying to break ritualistic checking, the cascading pins and needles through my arms, the heart palpitations, the heavy chest, the overwhelming desire to simply disappear.
None of it is noted.
And you know what? I totally get that, I totally understand that these things are not seen, that these things are not considered note worthy … After all, I’m talking about “invisible” illnesses.
It’s quite difficult explaining to someone how an illness feels when outwardly you may look perfectly well … Especially if it is not something the other person has experienced. Sometimes they look at you and you know that (on some level) they get it, other times you may as well be telling them that the sky is green polka dots and that cats shit rainbows.
I guess I just wonder if it would be possible to change public opinion or perceptions by having training within a working environment about illnesses that you are unable to see. Open the floor to discussion rather than treat it as though it is something to be hidden away and embarrassed about.
We are not machines, there are days when we will feel horrendous (this goes for everyone!) and we will feel insular and it should be acknowledged as human emotion. Sometimes talking about it helps, other times working through it helps, everyone has a different coping strategy depending on what the hell it is they’re going through.
But what we shouldn’t be doing is treating people as though they are a burden. As though there is something fundamentally wrong with them. No two lives are identical, reactions to stimuli are unique to that person … As is how they experience the world.
Just because you can’t see the illness doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.
Just because you can’t see the illness doesn’t mean that the person isn’t suffering.
PS – I’m going to leave this song here (“Wings” – Birdy) as right now, it feels like medicine for the soul.