If you live with chronic illness, you may often find you sugarcoat your struggles. For 26-year-old Marissa Spratley of Maryland, this is nothing new. She battles Crohn’s disease, psoriatic arthritis, ankylosing spondylitis, and interstitial cystitis. She manages her conditions with Stelara and sulfasalazine. This week she openly shares what she wishes healthy people knew about life with IBD. I’ll let her take it away.
In the chronic illness community we all know how incredibly difficult it is to have Inflammatory Bowel Disease (IBD), or any other chronic illness. We know what it feels like to get hit with a wave of fatigue so hard you have to lay down immediately. We know what it feels like when our gut is on fire from something we ate. We know what it feels like to have nausea so badly all we can do is curl up in a ball on the bathroom floor and cry. We know these things, yet when we communicate with a healthy able-bodied person, we downplay our struggles and pain.
Why are we afraid to be honest about how much pain we’re in on a daily basis? Is it because we don’t want to make others feel bad for us? Is it because we don’t want to show weakness? Or maybe it’s because we feel like by explaining how much we suffer on a regular basis, people might know the truth about us. That even though we are incredibly resilient, we live a hard life. We struggle and we cry and we ache and there are days where we wish IBD didn’t exist at all.
The truth is, hell yeah we are strong. But we are also weak, and we are tired. We are exhausted from always having to be strong in the face of pain. We are sick of having to downplay our symptoms and our suffering to make the healthy, able-bodied people around us feel less uncomfortable. We are tired of saying, “I’m good,” when someone asks how we’re doing and we really want to say “I feel like death.”
So, in the spirit of honesty and opening up to the very ableist world around us about what it’s like to live with IBD, here are four things people with IBD wish healthy people knew.
- There are days when it hurts just to breathe.
No, I am not being overdramatic. Yes, IBD affects more than just your gut. There are days when we wake up and everything about us aches. The way I describe it, is that I feel like I just got hit by a bus. My whole body aches deep in my bones, and it can take me an hour just to get out of bed and stand up straight. Those days are some of the hardest because on the outside we look perfectly normal. Please remember that not all illnesses are visible to the eye.
- Good intent doesn’t always mean good impact.
We know you’re just trying to help when you make suggestions about things we could do to try to feel better. But the truth is, we know our bodies better than anyone else, and trust us when we say — if there was something we could do to make us feel better, we’d do it. When you comment about things we should try (like juicing or yoga or going paleo), it makes us feel like you think we aren’t doing enough to feel better. Our healing and health are our business, and while we know you care, if we want your help or advice, we’ll ask for it. We appreciate you understanding this.
- Having a chronic illness is really hard on our mental health.
IBD is hard, period. Folks with chronic illnesses not only have to struggle with our physical health, but IBD also has a huge impact on our mental health. Being chronically ill makes you question a lot about yourself — Am I a burden to those around me? Am I worthy if I can’t work? Does my chronic illness make me hard to love? It also makes you question a lot about your worth — Am I lesser than because I can’t work as long as healthy people? Will employers not want to hire me? Do I bring enough to a relationship? These are all real questions I’ve asked myself at one time or another, and I can guarantee they are things other chronically ill folks have thought about as well. The way that IBD can affect your mental health is one of the most challenging parts of being chronically ill, because it is not talked about. So, what can you do to help us with our mental health? You can remind us we are inherently worthy, no matter how “productive” we are. You can remind us that you love us for who we are in our hearts, and not what we can do with our bodies. That means more to us than we can even put into words.
- Ableism affects the chronically ill, too.
Many people with IBD and chronic illnesses struggle to claim themselves as disabled, and this is something I could go on a tangent about. But here’s what you need to know: IBD affects our bodies in ways that make us less able, or disabled. The truth is, in the able-bodied centric society we live in, we believe it is offensive to call someone disabled because it means they can’t do something. However, to the actual disabled folks in our community, it is not offensive at all. We own the fact that we can’t use non-handicapped restroom stalls or walk up stairs. We are not afraid to say that there are tasks we cannot do as chronically ill, disabled individuals. It is our ableist society who thinks the term disabled is offensive. It is the ableist mindset that believes by saying someone can’t do something, we are being hurtful. Because to the chronically ill and disabled community, we know that our disabilities do not affect our worth. We know that our health does not affect our worth. But now we need you to know that, too.
To all my IBD and chronic illness folks: I see you, and I hear you. I hope that the next time you have a conversation with someone and you want to be real about how much it truly sucks sometimes, you can send them this article.
To the healthy, able-bodied folks reading this article, thank you for showing up and reading to the end. I hope you learned something new about how to better support your loved ones with IBD or chronic illness.
Connect with Marissa on Instagram: @mindbodycrohns
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