I’m thinking about hidden disabilities and how you have to prove that you’re suffering in order to deserve help.
My inclination to try to maintain my composure at all times makes it difficult to adequately convey whatever I might be experiencing. When I try to be more transparent, I find myself feeling pressured to perform disability to the liking of whoever the audience is. It has to be consistent and to the right degree. It’s a balancing act. If you don’t seem to be too distraught then clearly it’s not bad enough. If you’re too cliche or dramatic then maybe you’re faking it.
Don’t smile, laugh, or have a moment that feels good. What may be a flash of relief for you will seem like the whole crisis has been averted to others.
I’m remembering all the tension headaches and migraines I had as a kid. I’m thinking about how painful & debilitating they were and how hard I always tried to push through them. How I didn’t have the words to express what was going on and how I didn’t know it was okay to stop and rest.
Whether it’s being guarded, high functioning, macho, high masking, resilient, stoic, or never letting them see you sweat… whatever it is, I have a habit of taking it too far and just hurting myself in the long run. Someone introduced me to the idea of stress, burnout, and trauma causing harm to the nervous system. That freaked me out for some reason. I’m still investigating how real or literal that might be while knowing it’ll apply to me if so.
I thought putting up with momentary discomfort was an investment in the future. I was forging character. I never thought stress would linger beyond difficult moments. Like resistance training, I guess I thought working and pushing the limits was making myself stronger and more capable. I never assumed life difficulties could ever be excessive or dangerous. I always thought if you were willing to try then you could reach infinite potential. Now it feels like I’ve gone too hard for too long and injured myself.
Proximity to a breaking point is easier to gauge with physical things. We have a better, shared understanding of what is even possible based on history and physique. If you try to lift and carry something that’s too heavy for you, the awareness of the strain is right there filling up your mind. You realize you’re not in 100% control of your fingers and you can tangibly understand the consequence of unexpectedly dropping it. You can feel the risk of pulling a muscle. You can feel the potential of fracturing or popping something because you’ve incorporated other mechanics to compensate for what the muscle can’t do alone. And then everyone can see the brokeness, immobility, displacement, and dislocation of both the thing you were carrying and yourself.
It’s apparent to others when you’ve gotten stronger or sustained an injury. That visible evidence affirms your experience and the effort you put in. But when the strain and damage stays inside, by nature or by force, it’s easy to question if it’s real or if it happened the way you remember. It’s hard to ever know if the mental and emotional effort you’re putting in is the same as what’s expected and the same as everyone else. Are we defining things the same way?
I wish that I spoke up and challenged these expectations sooner because this is the wrong time and place to break down. I know I need a timeout but I literally can’t afford one.
So, what to do when all paths lead to doom.