People who are living with an invisible or chronic illness are often defined by being “sick.”
But there is so much more to my identity than just my illness.
I had major surgery to remove it, and then had to go through intense recovery.
I took medical leave from my job.
These were all things that were hard to hide.
Up until my surgery, only my parents knew about my diagnosis.
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Id been able to hide my symptoms from everyone else (and myself) pretty well.
But clearly, my health had gotten to the point where I couldnt ignore it anymore.
Were people willing to share their health stories?
Did anyone else feel as alone as I did?
I purchased a few books, and once home, I filled the pages with yellow highlighter markings.
This was confirmation that I wasnt alone; that my feelings were valid.
Its Amazing How Its All Connected.
But still, the idea of being defined by my illness made me anxious.
More than anxious, actually.
Some people, specifically those living with diabetes or heart disease, areeven blamed for their health problems.
Its frustrating to say the least.
There were no stories of people living regular lives while managing and still acknowledging their illnesses.
How were these people aiming to live normal lives?
How did they define themselves and their health?
How did theynotwant to define themselves?
But Ive learned that its another part of my life.
I want you to remember this.
New York (where I live)has started to reopen, but that means nothing to me.
Its still not safe for me to go out and surround myself with people in public places.
My breathing isnt normal.
Its challenging for me to walk uphill and up flights of stairs.
My doctors and I havent found the right treatment over the last eight years.
But I dont let it get in the way of living my life as best I can.
There is so much more to me than that.
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