There are days when living with chronic illness feels less like living and more like negotiating with a body that apparently did not read the itinerary.
You wake up with plans.
Your body wakes up with other plans.
And somehow, Crohn’s and MG have already held a 6:00 a.m. staff meeting, approved several agenda items, and once again forgot that I am supposed to be management. 😂
No consultation.
No memo.
No opportunity for rebuttal.
Just chaos.
But the message in this graphic stopped me:
“Don’t forget to give yourself credit for the days you have made it through when you thought you couldn’t.”
That part.
Because sometimes we become so focused on the next appointment, the next treatment, the next flare, the next symptom, or simply making it through the next day that we forget something important:
We have already survived days we once weren’t sure we could.
💜 Some Days, Making It Through Is the Accomplishment
We live in a world that likes visible accomplishments.
Promotions.
Degrees.
Milestones.
Completed projects.
Crossed-off to-do lists.
But chronic illness creates another category of accomplishment that rarely gets celebrated.
Getting out of bed when your body feels like it weighs 500 pounds.
Going to work while fighting fatigue no amount of coffee is going to fix.
Showing up for the people you love while quietly managing symptoms they cannot see.
Making another doctor’s appointment when you’re tired of appointments.
Going through another treatment when you’re tired of treatments.
Advocating for yourself when you’re exhausted from explaining yourself.
And sometimes?
Simply deciding that today will not defeat you.
Some days my biggest accomplishment is being productive.
Other days it is getting dressed, making it from the bed to the couch, and doing so without my body filing a formal grievance with Human Resources. 😂
Both are accomplishments.
They just don’t look the same.
🦋 The Days Nobody Saw
Some of my hardest victories don’t have pictures.
There was no applause.
No certificate.
No Facebook announcement saying:
Congratulations, Kia! You successfully survived another day when your body was acting completely disrespectful. 😂
No celebratory dinner.
No balloons.
Not even a cupcake.
Which, frankly, feels like an oversight.
There were simply moments when I thought:
I don’t know how much more of this I can take.
And then somehow…
I took a little more.
I rested.
I cried.
I got frustrated.
I probably cursed.
Okay, let’s not play — I definitely cursed. 😂
Then I kept going.
Not because I felt particularly inspirational or brave in the moment.
Sometimes I kept going because there simply wasn’t another option.
And I think we sometimes overlook those victories because survival doesn’t always feel like strength while we’re doing it.
Sometimes survival just feels exhausting.
Sometimes it looks like lying in bed thinking, “If one more thing happens today…”
And then one more thing happens.
Because apparently the universe enjoys testing boundaries too. 😂
💪🏽 Strength Doesn’t Always Look Strong
Chronic illness changed my definition of strength.
Strength isn’t always pushing through.
Sometimes strength is admitting that you can’t.
Sometimes it’s canceling plans.
Sometimes it’s asking for help.
Sometimes it’s resting before your body forces you to.
Sometimes it’s advocating for yourself even when you’re afraid someone will label you “difficult.”
Sometimes it’s saying:
No. My body needs something different today.
And sometimes strength is lying in bed doing absolutely nothing except allowing your body to recover.
That still counts.
Actually, with Crohn’s and MG?
That can be a full day’s assignment.
The syllabus reads:
Sit down. Drink some water. Take your medicine. Stop acting like you have something to prove.
Unfortunately, I have historically struggled with that portion of the curriculum. 😂
But I am improving.
Slowly.
Very slowly.
No need to rush me.
💜 We Don’t Give Ourselves Enough Credit
One of the strangest things about surviving difficult seasons is how quickly we minimize what we’ve survived.
Once the crisis passes, we move on.
Another responsibility.
Another Monday.
Another flare.
Another treatment.
Another doctor’s appointment.
Another round of managing the administrative side of chronic illness — a completely unpaid part-time job nobody remembers you applying for.
Referrals. Prior authorizations. Prescription refills. Insurance denials.
And, of course, the legendary:
“We never received that fax.”
Ma’am.
Sir.
Everybody involved knows somebody received that fax. 😂
Then there is another round of explaining that “but you look fine” is not actually a medical assessment.
Somewhere along the way, yesterday’s impossible becomes today’s history.
But every once in a while, I think we need to turn around and look at the road behind us.
Not because we want to live in the past.
But because sometimes the road behind us reminds us exactly how strong we’ve already been.
You are standing in places you once wondered whether you would ever reach.
That deserves acknowledgment.
🌿 Give Yourself Credit
So today, I’m reminding myself — and anyone else living with chronic illness who needs to hear it:
Give yourself credit.
For the appointment you were afraid to attend.
For the treatment you didn’t want but showed up for anyway.
For the flare that knocked you down and the slow climb back afterward.
For every time you advocated for yourself.
For every time you rested instead of apologizing for needing rest.
For every plan you had to change.
For every tear you wiped away before walking back into the world.
For every time you said, “I can’t do this anymore,” and somehow found yourself still here.
Maybe you survived with grace.
Maybe you survived with courage.
Maybe you survived with tears, snacks, medication, prayer, a heating pad, dark humor, inappropriate language, and a heated conversation with your own immune system.
Survival is survival. 😂
You don’t have to turn every difficult experience into an inspirational story.
You don’t have to pretend chronic illness made you stronger.
You don’t have to be grateful for what you’ve endured.
But you can give yourself credit for enduring it.
Those are two very different things.
You don’t have to celebrate what happened to you to celebrate the fact that you survived it.
🎵 Music Playing…
“The Climb” — Miley Cyrus
Because sometimes the victory isn’t reaching some magical place where everything is suddenly easy.
Sometimes the victory is recognizing how much ground you’ve already covered — especially when there were moments you weren’t sure you could take another step.
💭 Reflection Corner
When was the last time you gave yourself credit for something you survived?
Not something you accomplished.
Something you survived.
Think about one day, season, diagnosis, procedure, treatment, flare, disappointment, or frightening moment when you genuinely wondered how you were going to make it through.
Now look at yourself.
You did.
Maybe not gracefully.
Maybe not without scars.
Maybe not without tears, anger, fear, therapy, medication, family, friends, prayer, dark humor, inappropriate language, or all of the above. 😂
And maybe there were mornings when you didn’t wake up thinking:
“LET’S DO THIS!”
Maybe you opened one eye, assessed the situation, and thought:
“Y’all have got to be kidding me.”
That counts too.
Because you got through the day anyway.
And if nobody has told you lately:
That matters.
💜 To My Fellow Chronic Illness Warriors
You don’t have to earn the title “warrior” by pretending you’re never tired of fighting.
You are allowed to be tired.
You are allowed to hate this sometimes.
You are allowed to wish your life didn’t require quite so much resilience.
Being a warrior doesn’t mean you wake up every morning excited to battle your own body.
Sometimes warrior energy is fierce.
Sometimes it’s determined.
And sometimes warrior energy is:
“I am going back to bed, and we can all try this nonsense again tomorrow.” 😂
All of those versions of you are worthy of credit.
You are still allowed to look back at everything you’ve survived and say:
Damn. I really did that.
Because you did.
Give yourself credit for the mornings you got up.
For the nights you cried.
For the appointments you attended.
For the treatments you endured.
For the plans you changed.
For the boundaries you learned to set.
And for every time Crohn’s and MG attempted a hostile takeover and you had to remind them whose name is actually on the lease. 😂
They may be roommates.
They may occasionally behave like they own the place.
But they still don’t get top billing.
I do.
And while I won’t personally calculate anyone’s official percentage of badassery…
I’m comfortable saying the evidence is looking pretty strong. 💜😂
If this entry resonated with you, please like, share, and subscribe to The Dual Diagnosis Diaries. Every share helps bring more awareness to the realities of living with chronic illness and reminds someone else that they are not navigating this journey alone.
Thank you for reading, supporting, learning, and walking beside me as I continue sharing the realities — the hard days, the hopeful days, the ridiculous days, and everything in between — of life with chronic illness.
Until next time, remember:
Your hardest days count too. And so does the fact that you’re still here. 💜
Founder • Author • Advocate • Future Wellness Coach
Kia Lorice
The Dual Diagnosis Diaries 💜
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