04/03/2026
Invisible illness comes at a cost, and it’s not cheap.
But this cost is not only financial.
Chronic disabilities cost you your freedom. Your autonomy. Your past self - often including the ability to participate in your hobbies, your passion, and even activism (which is one of many things in which I’ve always been passionate about).
It also costs you your own accountability. Not because you’ve become unreliable as a person, but instead due to your disabilities causing not only unpredictable flare-ups, but also an unpredictable life. We try SO hard to commit to plans that we so desperately want to follow through on… but often times, we end up needing to cancel because it would otherwise cost us the ability to function at even the bare minimum.
When you’re forced between having to choose doing something enjoyable and not being able to function at even the bare minimum…? Eventually, you reach a point where you’ve learned that the latter option is something your body physically cannot continue enduring.
Having invisible illness(es) costs you friendships, respect, money, passions, overall enjoyment of life, autonomy, and trustworthiness.
What do we get in return for that cost? You receive the grief of not just losing all of these, but losing your former self.
But you also receive a lifetime worth of people who so deeply understand the pain, the grief, and the growing pains of transitioning to an entirely new life.
Invisible illnesses have a low yield.
We deserve more in return.