The Dual Diagnosis Diaries: 💜The Things People Don’t See

“Invisible illnesses don’t make us any less capable. They simply force us to do ordinary things in extraordinary ways.”

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🌅 The Things We Carry in Silence

Yesterday morning, before heading out to work, I did what has become second nature to me.

I checked my calendar. I made sure I had taken my medication. I mentally noted where the bathrooms were at my first property visit and wondered whether my energy would last through meetings, phone calls, and the drive home.

And, because life likes to keep things interesting, I silently negotiated with my lungs, my muscles, and my digestive system to please cooperate for the next eight hours.

Most people simply grab their keys and walk out the door.

People with autoimmune diseases leave the house like they’re preparing for a cross-country expedition.

There is a strange thing that happens when you live with an invisible illness. People see you laughing with friends, showing up to work, posting pictures online, and crossing things off your to-do list, and they assume you must be doing okay.

And sometimes, we let them believe that.

Not because we’re trying to fool anyone, but because explaining what chronic illness feels like can be exhausting—and frankly, we’re already tired.

As I sat with these thoughts, “Strength, Courage & Wisdom” by India.Arie kept replaying in my head. Maybe because living with chronic illness requires all three, or maybe because my brain enjoys assigning soundtracks to my life without my permission.

The truth is that autoimmune disease is often measured by the things people don’t see.

They don’t see the calculations happening in our minds before we agree to plans. They don’t see the pain hidden behind a smile or the fatigue that settles into our bones before the day has even started.

As someone living with Crohn’s disease and MuSK-positive Myasthenia Gravis, I have a few things to add.

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💥 1. People Don’t Understand How Much Pain We’re Actually In

Chronic pain has a funny way of becoming background noise.

Some days are better than others, but even on the good days, something hurts.

Maybe it’s abdominal pain from Crohn’s.

Maybe it’s muscle weakness from MG.

Maybe it’s the headaches, joint pain, or that random pain that shows up uninvited and refuses to explain itself.

After a while, you stop announcing every ache because, honestly, nobody wants to hear, “Well, today my stomach hurts, my back hurts, and my left eyelid is staging a protest.”

So we adapt.

We work.

We laugh.

We continue showing up.

And because we’ve become experts at functioning through pain, people assume it must not be that bad.

Trust me—it’s still there.

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🏃🏽‍♀️ 2. “Normal” Tasks Aren’t Really Normal for Us

Going to work.

Cooking dinner.

Running errands.

Cleaning the house.

Attending family events.

For most people, those are everyday responsibilities.

For people with chronic illness, they can feel like Olympic events.

As a Regional Property Manager, my days are packed with meetings, site visits, phone calls, and putting out fires—sometimes literally and sometimes figuratively.

What people don’t see is the mental checklist constantly running in the background:

• Do I have enough energy for this meeting?
• How far is the nearest bathroom?
• Is my breathing cooperating today?
• Did I take my medication?
• Will I still have enough energy to fold laundry later?

By the end of the day, my body feels like it just completed a marathon, even though my fitness tracker insists I’ve only walked six thousand steps.

Rude.

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😴 3. The Guilt That Comes with Rest

If I’m honest, I probably struggled with resting long before autoimmune disease entered my life.

But chronic illness takes that guilt and turns the volume all the way up.

My body demands rest in ways I never expected, yet my brain still believes I should be able to function like I did twenty years ago.

Apparently, my body and my ambition have not had a team meeting.

I know rest is necessary.

I know rest is productive.

And yet, there are still days when I sit down to recover and immediately start making mental lists of everything I’m not doing.

Autoimmune disease really said, “You’re exhausted, but let’s add guilt just for fun.”

And sometimes, the exhaustion itself isn’t the hardest part—it’s feeling like no one truly understands what you’re carrying.

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💜 4. Chronic Illness Can Be Incredibly Lonely

One of the hardest parts of living with invisible illness is realizing that most people will never fully understand what you experience.

And honestly, I don’t expect them to.

But there is a difference between being alone and feeling unseen.

You can be surrounded by family, friends, and coworkers and still feel isolated because no one truly understands the battle your body is fighting.

That loneliness doesn’t come from a lack of love.

It comes from carrying a reality that is difficult to explain to people who have never lived it.

Sometimes, the most healing words are simply:

“I believe you.”

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🌻 5. We Grieve the Versions of Ourselves We Used to Be

This one hit me especially hard.

I grieve the version of myself who never had to think about breathing.

The woman who could travel constantly for work without wondering if her body would cooperate.

The person who could make plans without calculating fatigue levels, medication schedules, or where the nearest restroom might be.

I still catch myself making plans based on the woman I used to be instead of the woman my body allows me to be today.

Living with chronic illness means learning to love who you are while simultaneously mourning who you used to be.

That grief is real.

And it deserves space.

But somewhere between the doctor appointments, infusions, medications, and difficult days, I have also discovered parts of myself I may never have found otherwise.

I discovered an advocate.

A writer.

A woman determined to educate others and remind people living with chronic illness that they are not alone.

I would never have chosen this journey, but I am proud of the person it has shaped me into.

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⚔️ 6. Sometimes It Feels Like My Diseases Are Competing for Attention

Living with both Crohn’s disease and Myasthenia Gravis means that my body occasionally behaves like two toddlers arguing over who gets my attention first.

Just when Crohn’s settles down, MG taps me on the shoulder and says, “Excuse me, I think we should focus on breathing today.”

And just when MG decides to cooperate, Crohn’s suddenly remembers that it hasn’t caused enough chaos.

It would be nice if they took turns.

Unfortunately, they did not receive that memo.

Some days, managing one disease feels like a full-time job.

Managing both can feel like overtime—with no vacation days and terrible benefits.

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📝 7. People Don’t See How Much Planning Goes into Simply Existing

One thing I would add to the conversation is this:

People have no idea how much planning goes into “normal life” when you have chronic illness.

There are medications to organize.

Symptoms to monitor.

Energy to ration.

Bathrooms to locate.

Backup plans to make.

Recovery time to schedule.

What looks spontaneous from the outside often involved enough preparation to rival a military operation.

Meanwhile, healthy people are just grabbing their keys and leaving the house.

Must be nice.

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🌈 Finding Joy Anyway

And despite everything—despite the pain, the fatigue, and the uncertainty—we still find reasons to laugh, celebrate milestones, and make memories.

We still show up for birthdays, family reunions, and dinner with friends.

We still make plans, even knowing our bodies may have other ideas.

Because chronic illness changes our lives, but it does not erase them.

The victories may look different these days, but they are victories nonetheless.

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🎵 The Soundtrack of This Diary Entry

As I finish writing this diary entry, “Strength, Courage & Wisdom” by India.Arie is still playing in my head.

Because living with chronic illness requires strength to keep showing up, courage to face an uncertain future, and wisdom to recognize when our bodies need rest—even when our minds insist we should keep going.

And somehow, after juggling medications, symptoms, work, family, and whatever surprise my immune system has planned for the day, people still have the audacity to say, “But you don’t look sick?”

Respectfully… we deserve trophies.

Actually, not just trophies. At minimum, we deserve unlimited naps, free snacks, and priority parking.

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💭 Final Thoughts

If you live with an autoimmune disease or chronic illness, I hope you know this:

You are not dramatic.

You are not lazy.

You are not weak.

And you are certainly not failing.

You are carrying burdens that most people will never see while still finding ways to work, love, laugh, and live.

That kind of strength deserves recognition.

And on the days when you can’t be strong, I hope you give yourself permission to rest—without guilt.

Because some days, simply getting out of bed is the victory.

And that victory counts.

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💜 Thank you for taking the time to read this entry from The Dual Diagnosis Diaries.

If this story resonated with you, taught you something new, or reminded you that you’re not alone, please consider liking, subscribing, and sharing this diary entry. Your support helps raise awareness about Crohn’s disease, Myasthenia Gravis, and the realities of living with chronic illness.

Until next time, remember to give yourself grace. Some of us are fighting battles that the world cannot see.

Founder • Author • Advocate • Future Wellness Coach

Kia Lorice
The Dual Diagnosis Diaries 💜