You could do it better

So around 2 weeks ago, I received my official diagnosis of the Sjogren’s Syndrome, an autoimmune disease which has caused me intense fatigue for past few years and now the additional symptoms of joint pain, low-grade fevers, eye pain are all beginning to show.

Chronic Illness Squared.

And the ablist reactions I’ve received have been actually shocking. I knew people, especially when I came out with mental illness, that people didn’t believe it, or maybe they don’t believe it’s that serious, or they don’t believe I’m actually suicidal. But that’s because mental health is hard to understand, right? If people thought of it as a physical illness, that you are “sick,” they’d be sympathetic?

But now with a physical diagnosis, you know what are people saying — the “pain” is just trauma trapped in your body. If you address your root emotional cause and eat the right foods, poof your immune system and antibodies will self correct.

WHAT THE FUCK. LIKE REALLY. WHAT THE FUCK.

Human beings are awful and horrible. They’re desire to seem themselves as exceptional, to presume that they won’t experience tragedy, or that they will manage it in a way that won’t ever compromise their quality of life, MEANS they assume, even with a physical illness, that you are complaining in a way they would never. The pain couldn’t be that bad. You are weak and meek and dramatic.

My friend told me an anecdote when the news came that a friend’s mother was in a car accident, the first question someone asked was, “was it her fault?” He admitted he was wondering the same thing, (but wouldn’t have said it outloud.)

His theory is that everyone’s desire for control, control to have a good life, is that anyone who is suffering, must be doing something wrong and they will avoid suffering by being better, behaving better.

I have two rivalling emotions right now: one is anger. Flashing rage. I want all these people to be hit with the plague, to be struck by lightning, to have a grief big and large. Then I want to be like, let’s see how graceful you handle all of that and if you deserve any compassion from me.

The other emotion: is you’re right, you win. You are better, you are stronger, you are more capable. You’d be fine. I am not. And as the loser, I will gracefully bow out of this life and you can feel oh so good about how superior you are continuing to survive and thrive.