“It still isn’t easy for me to describe myself as a disabled woman. For a long time I didn’t think a disabled woman sat on the ground pulling out weeds. Or played handball with her son. Or helped her elderly neighbor carry in groceries. But I do all those things. Because being a disabled woman doesn’t look the same for every woman. And it doesn’t look the same for me each day.”
That paragraph is taken from “It’s Not All in the Family,” a personal essay I wrote that was published in the fall issue of Breath and Shadow. You can read the essay by clicking here.
I live with an invisible disability. A chronic medical condition causing chronic pain. An autoimmune disease called Undifferentiated Connective Tissue Disease. My rheumatologist described it as having overlapping symptoms of lupus, myositis, and rheumatoid arthritis.
On any given day, at any given time, I feel exhausted. Depressed. Angry. Confused. Vulnerable. Fatigued. Pissed. Worn-down. Less-than. Weak.
The emotions fluctuate on my day – my activity, my energy, my pain.
But there is one underlying emotion that’s always there. One emotion that serves as the shaky foundation for all the rest.
That is the beginning of my most recently published personal essay. Click here to be-directed to The Mighty to read “What It’s Like To Feel Constant Guilt With an Invisible Disability.”