There is no such thing as a chronic condition that comes free from psychological issues. One of the most common is the adjustment to being different. We are social animals. From the time we are young, we do everything we can to fit in to our peer group. By definition, a chronic diagnosis puts you in the “different” category. Even if it’s an invisible illness, even if no one knows about it, in your head, you have become “other”.
I was lucky. My school friends were all weirdos attracted to each other for the simple reason that none of us knew how to contort our personalities enough to fit in with the popular kids. Which also meant that a diagnosis was just another layer of weirdness.
Even if you weren’t lucky like me (although most chronic patients don’t have to worry about finding a kid peer group since they’re not diagnosed until they are adults), when we’re adults with chronic conditions, no matter how long you have been dealing with it, part of our identities crystallize into that feeling of otherness. We are still trying to fit in with those we perceive as “normal”. No matter how successful we might be, we secretly know we are not like them.
We start comparing ourselves. Healthy people are so busy while I just don’t have the energy to do all they do. Healthy people can eat without thinking while I have to be careful not to trigger flareups. Healthy people request telework because they want to. I request telework because I have to. The self-consciousness that comes with these assumptions* reinforces not just the idea that we are other, but that we are less.
You can torture yourself with this line of thinking. Best case scenario, you have no energy to waste on it and you stop caring what they can do and start focusing on what you can do. But along the way you can do yourself a lot of harm. I have a friend struggling with a new diagnosis. Among other things, it causes their blood counts to drop very low. Add that to several new prescriptions, including drugs to counter the effects of other drugs (ugh). My friend is struggling. My friend needs to ask for accommodations, but they are afraid to because the office environment is not receptive, and they don’t think their symptoms are legitimate compared to a colleague who suffers from chronic pain. My friend thinks they can still power through.
Maybe they can. Maybe they can’t. But the real question is, should they? I am going to make myself a hypocrite now and say there is no hierarchy to symptoms. All symptoms are damaging, or else we wouldn’t treat them. Maybe someone has to deal with a blocked bowel. Is that any more or less serious than chronic pain? Or the possibility of a blood clot? Or defective connective tissue? They all change how we are able to live our lives. They all have the potential to kill us, either directly or indirectly. Is it fair to ourselves that, just because we are muddling through when it’s difficult, we think everyone else’s symptoms are more difficult than ours, that everyone else deserves accommodation more than we do.
Nope. It’s not.
We need to start being nicer to ourselves, acknowledge that muddling through is no longer good enough. We need to stop comparing ourselves to healthy people who physically cannot belong to our peer group (well, we need to stop comparing ourselves to anyone, but that’s a big ask, so let’s start here). We need to start asking for what we need, even if we think we will get push back. There are laws that will protect us.
But before all of that, we need understand that it’s okay to need what we need.
Needing doesn’t make us weak. We function at a disadvantage, and that’s okay. Sometimes we need – not want -- things our healthier peers take for granted, and that’s okay. Every single symptom, every single circumstance is legitimate and worthy of care.
*They are assumptions. Most of the people we compare ourselves to are not people we know well. We can see the not-quite-perfect lives of those closest to us, those who know at least a little about our struggles and make no distinction.