Chronic Migraine, Coping, Favorites, Friends & Family

The Silencing Effect of Chronic Illness

“Sometimes the accumulation of his silence seamed to heap upon him, as slowly as snow, until he felt he could no longer be seen.” –Mr. Panicker (a character in “Aerogrammes,” by Tania James)

And sometimes I lose my breath when lines in a story are so applicable to life with chronic illness. Whether a person withdraws from others due to devastating physical symptoms, a lack of understanding from others in our lives, the clinical depression that’s comorbid with so many illnesses, or yet another of the myriad factors for social withdrawal, chronic illness is incredibly isolating.

I cut myself off when my attacks are severe because it takes more physical and mental effort than I’m capable of giving.Unfortunately, that’s meant years of silence in some cases. Even when I feel “better” (my version of better being far sicker than a healthy person’s idea of well), my energy is so limited that I often spend it all on the minutia of daily life rather than socializing. While I’d very much like to reconnect with my loved ones, the day-to-day tasks feeding myself, seeing doctors, doing laundry, wrangling with health insurance, and working have to come first.

Just like Mr. Panicker’s silence accumulates, so do the symptoms of chronic illness. As the symptoms pile on, a patient can become unrecognizable to even ourselves. How can a person connect to others if they don’t even know who they are anymore? I used to dread having to talk about my life. I had nothing to talk about other than illness, the severity of which I was unwilling to acknowledge. My days were solely dedicated to survival and not in an exciting I-defeated-a-grizzly-bear kind of way, but of the can-I-go-to-the-bathroom-now-or-does-it-hurt-too-much-to-move, I-must-feed-myself-so-hunger-doesn’t-trigger-a-migraine variety. Now, I’m more willing to talk about illness and I’m more aware of how much work I do every single day, but I still often think my life must look terribly boring to other people.

The stigma of chronic illness imposes yet another kind of silence. Some people don’t feel like they can talk about their illness without sounding like a complainer, so they just don’t say a word. Others always have to put a positive spin on it, focusing on some miniscule change or possible new treatment. (I’m guilty on both accounts!) Then we encounter the numerous healthy people who are afraid of chronic illness or think they have the answers, forcing their beliefs or cures or stories on us. In these ways and many others, those with chronic illness, like Mr. Panicker, are unseen.

It’s not that people with chronic illness want that illness to be at the forefront of every interaction. We don’t want to be singled out or pampered or treated any differently, but we want to be seen. We want to have all the aspects of ourselves recognized and illness is one part of who we are. When someone tries to deny our realities and experiences or forces a “cure” on us, they aren’t seeing us for who we truly are. For me, that’s what hurts the most — when a person can’t be bothered to see all of me, chronic migraine included, and see what an amazing feat it is that I get out of bed every day.

It took me many years to accept that the people who tell me I’m brave are right. I am courageous and strong for trying to live a full, happy life when I have a debilitating chronic illness. I can dismiss the people who call me weak because I am sick because I know they are wrong. It’s the people in-between, the ones who don’t blame me, but also think I would get better if I tried harder or the ones who gloss over the role migraine plays in my life that I get most frustrated with. Those who make the effort to see me for who I truly am, who are not afraid to acknowledge my illness, are the only people to whom I feel deeply connected.

Again, I don’t want to be only seen as a person with chronic migraine, but to have all the aspects of my identity — good, bad, messy, complicated — to be acknowledged. Illness isn’t all that I am, but it’s a huge part of me. A part that makes my life difficult and my triumphs noteworthy. Denying or ignoring the role of chronic illness in my life invalidates the tremendous achievements, the emotional fortitude, the unbelievable strength I display every single day.


18 thoughts on “The Silencing Effect of Chronic Illness”

  1. Thank u so much for writing this. It definitely hit home for me & touched on so many issues that I have been unable to articulate. My inlaws have been the least accepting, forcing me to pretend ‘all is okay’ & put on my happy face. It’s extremely exhausting, & most definitely leaves me feeling ‘unseen’. I want so bad for them to accept all of me, but for years now they have just been unwilling. This is a very hard thing for me to accept, & I’m not sure how to go about presenting my illness to the
    ‘in real talk’ without sounding like a complainer (since my every word & move is criticized & judge by them). Do u have any advice on this topic? Again, thank u for finding the strength to write these articles such debilitating pain. Honestly, I don’t know how you do it, but it inspires me so much. I have a huge passion for writing, but my voice has been silenced by my illness. Your blog has inspired me to write again. Also, I custom ordered my theraspecs several months ago & the results have been lifechanging. I can not thank u enough!!

    1. Rachelle, thanks for sharing your story. I’m not sure about advice–it depends a lot on the people involved. I try to use concrete terms and focus on describing what it’s like without complaining. This doesn’t always work, since some people see any mention of illness as complaining. It sometimes helps to share articles about what migraine is like, and sometimes you just have to accept that some people can’t and won’t understand what you’re going through.

      There’s a particular friend I think of when I think about this post. I didn’t write it with her in mind, but now it really describes our relationship. She won’t acknowledge the role migraine plays in my life and I’ve finally gotten to a point where I think I’m finished. I thought we’d be friends forever, but I can no longer invest the energy required to be who she wants me to be. This is just too big a part of me to ignore.

      I’m so glad the TheraSpecs are helping!

      Take care,

  2. thank you for writing this! I know this was written some time ago but either way I just want to thank you as a fellow sufferer.

    I am still on the journey of acceptance. I was in a car accident over 4 years ago that has unfortunately left me with chronic neck pain and chronic daily headaches & episodic migraines without auras. My lower back gets aggravated by certain things as well. It all gets aggravated which just makes things worse. Push too much or do too much. Errands and daily tasks have to be spread out throughout the week if I can even manage to get out of bed and function. I’m in a down spell currently and my body is having a really hard time recovering to what it was about a year ago. Off work once again. It’s a hard process.

    1. Melissa, thank you! I’m sorry you’re dealing with so many physical symptoms and their repercussions on normal life. For most people, it seems acceptance is a forward and back process. There’s progress, then setback, and repeat. I wish you all the best.

      Take care,

  3. That is exactly how I feel. I have had CDH for 15 years. People think I’m antisocial because I don’t have the energy to have close friendships. Thank you for posting your thoughts.

  4. Hi! Your article was dead on! I have lost friends due to migraine and the trek of trying to explain it all never really feels safe. The isolation can be enormous. I have 100 people I would love to have read this!

  5. Thank you so much for sharing.
    Its always a relief as such to read others write what you can’t put into words for yourself.
    Blessings x

  6. Hi Kerrie,
    Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
    Sitting at my desk crying, head, jaw, neck and shoulder pain from migraine, from Botox, from too much activity this weekend – I just feel like a husk and I come to your blog like a long-lost friend. The one that gets it, the one that understands how I’m feeling right now. This time I found this post and is very much what I need. I feel silent right now. I just don’t want to burden anyone with my complaining anymore today, but I guess I’m doing it here. I hope it’s okay to blurt out my migraine confessional. I’m at one of those points of frustration where I can’t even argue with my doctors anymore. I’m so tired and no one is helping. Thank you for reminding me that strength and bravery are still out there.
    Sorry for the rant – Amber

  7. Hi there – I’ve dealt with migraines for 15+ years now, with severe dust allergies giving me a chronic trigger. I’ve done tons of research as well, and I’m now starting to wonder if migraines could be more of an auto-immune disorder that has ties to food intolerances? I’ve been checking out the GAPS and SCD diets, and apparently some doctors have found that when you heal the gut, many other allergies and intolerances improve as well. A friend of mine had tons of allergies and such and also had a son with Asperger’s. She put the whole family on the diet and most of her food issues have gone away, and her son has been transformed. I’m thinking of checking it out but nervous since they promote yogurt and probiotics AFTER the gut has begun healing while on a very restricted diet. Have you heard of the GAPS diet?

  8. Wow!!! As a fellow migraineur-thanks for writing
    this. Kerrie-you are able to articulate what is going
    thru other fellow sufferers lives. This is a wonderful
    gift. You are making a difference.


    Timothy from Reno

  9. I don’t find your life the least bit boring. Though I can’t directly relate, I do understand the need to keep some stories inside, to stockpile energy. People often cause harm to others out of their own discomfort with the truth.

    No one with the slightest amount of empathy and a curious mind could ever find your stories boring – even the day-to-day ones that seem mundane to you. And who has the energy for anyone devoid of empathy and curiosity, anyway?

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *