The World Doesn't Stop
As someone with a chronic illness, it's odd to realize that while you're symptoms are raging, the rest of the world continues on.
I had a low blood sugar episode at work a few weeks ago, and as the fog lifted I couldn't help but realize that, for everyone else, life goes on. This feeling was similar to one I had while grieving my grandma's death–everyone else just goes about their day, oblivious to what's going on in your life.
I suppose this is a form of grief. Grieving the life you once lived, grieving want you could have been doing instead of dealing with a flare up or something.
I sometimes find myself trying to ignore my body's cry for help. Even now, after years of therapy and unlearning, my brain still tries to convince me I can keep going. The world doesn't stop, why should I?
There have been times where I put off treating a low blood sugar, trying yet again to prove to myself that I can just go about my day as normal. I’m fine, come on. I’m fine, I don’t feel that low. I have some days where everything feels like an inconvenience. Ugh, I’m low again?
It’s even harder to explain to other people how this feels. I’m lucky to have a great support system of family, friends, and coworkers who do their best to understand what I’m going through, but there’s only so much an outsider will get. The friend who sat with me during my low episode at work was great about meeting me where I was and acknowledging how scary the situation was. She checked in on me throughout the day, too. I made sure she knew how much I appreciated her being there for me.
There’s a level of vulnerability after experiencing a hypoglycemic episode that has never hit me as much as it did that day. My boss and my manager both saw how scared and out of it I was, as did most of my coworkers. When I came back to our department’s back room, everyone was asking if I was okay, even people that I don’t interact with very often. It feels good to know that there are people who genuinely care about me, you know?
I was a bit slower than usual for the rest of the day and ended up going home early. Low blood sugars drain your energy like nobody’s business, especially when you’re already exhausted from the day before. I made sure my friend knew I was leaving and assured her I was okay. I told a couple other people, too, just so they wouldn’t worry.
If you live with a chronic illness, you’ve probably experienced this feeling before. It doesn’t seem fair that everyone else gets to continue on with their day while yours comes to a grinding halt. It’s frustrating, I know. I wish I could tell you that it’ll get easier or one day won’t seem like a big deal, but I don’t know that. Maybe you’ll have moments where it doesn’t feel as heavy, but you’ll likely have more that feel like you’re grieving a life you can’t have.
I see you, and if no one else understands, know that I do.
—Abbie