The Dual Diagnosis Diaries: 💜 You Are Not Too Much

Sometimes inspiration finds me while I’m scrolling.

Sometimes it’s something funny. Sometimes it’s something educational. And every once in a while, it’s a few simple words that make me stop scrolling altogether.

This time, it was a message addressed simply to:

“Dear Warrior.”

It said it was okay not to be okay all the time.

It was okay to answer honestly when someone asks how you are.

Your feelings are valid.

You are allowed to have hard days.

And then came the line that stayed with me:

You are not too much. Remember that.

Whew.

Because somewhere along the way, many of us living with chronic illness start worrying that everything attached to our illness makes us too much.

Too many symptoms.
Too many appointments.
Too many medications.
Too many cancellations.
Too many accommodations.
Too many explanations.
Too many bad days.

And, of course, my personal favorite:

Too many answers other than “I’m fine.”

So, Dear Warrior, I think we need to talk.

💜 “How Are You?” Is Actually a Question

You know the routine.

Someone asks:

“How are you?”

And before they have even finished asking, we respond:

“I’m fine.”

Meanwhile, Crohn’s may be staging a full-scale protest, MG may have decided muscles are optional today, fatigue has moved in without paying rent, and mentally I’m trying to remember which specialist I was supposed to call back.

But sure.

I’m fine. 😂

Sometimes “fine” really does mean fine.

Other times, “fine” means:

I don’t have the energy to explain.

Or:

I’m afraid the truth will make you uncomfortable.

Or:

I don’t want anyone to think I’m complaining again.

And sometimes it simply means:

This story is way too long for the amount of energy I currently have available.

But that “Dear Warrior” message reminded me of something important:

It is okay to answer honestly.

“How are you?” does not have to be a multiple-choice question where fine is the only acceptable answer.

Sometimes the answer can simply be:

“Today is hard.”

No explanation.

No apology.

No attempt to make the other person comfortable.

And that can be enough.

💭 I Don’t Have to Be Okay All the Time

Chronic illness can create this strange pressure to prove how well we are handling everything.

We celebrate the strong days.

The productive days.

The days when we work, laugh, travel, spend time with family, handle responsibilities, and somehow manage to make chronic illness look like a minor inconvenience happening somewhere in the background.

Those are often the days people see.

And sometimes those days become the evidence people use to assume we must be doing better.

But what about the other days?

The days when getting dressed feels like an accomplishment.

The days when pain wins.

The days when fatigue isn’t something a nap can fix.

The days when you’re frustrated, angry, scared, disappointed, overwhelmed—or simply tired of being tired.

Those days count too.

Strength isn’t pretending the hard days don’t exist. Sometimes strength is admitting, “Today is hard.”

I can be resilient and exhausted.

I can be grateful and frustrated.

I can laugh and still be hurting.

I can advocate for myself and still occasionally want to throw my entire autoimmune system in the trash.

Two things can be true at once.

Actually, when you live with multiple chronic illnesses, about seventeen things can apparently be true at once.

My roommates like options. 😂

🦋 My Feelings Don’t Need Permission

Another part of the message simply said:

Your feelings are valid.

Simple words.

Big reminder.

There is no Chronic Illness Olympics.

I don’t have to compare today’s struggle to someone else’s worst day before deciding whether I’m “allowed” to be upset.

Someone having it worse doesn’t mean I’m not having a hard time.

Someone experiencing the same diagnosis differently doesn’t mean I’m handling mine incorrectly.

Someone responding beautifully to a treatment doesn’t mean I failed because my body responded differently.

And having a difficult day doesn’t erase every bit of progress I’ve made.

Living with chronic illness comes with emotions that don’t always fit neatly into inspirational quotes.

There can be grief.

Fear.

Anger.

Frustration.

Loneliness.

There can also be gratitude.

Joy.

Hope.

Laughter.

And ridiculous amounts of humor—because apparently laughing at the absurdity of all this is one of the ways I survive it.

All of those feelings can exist in the same life.

Sometimes in the same day.

Sometimes before breakfast.

And none of them make me ungrateful, negative, dramatic, or weak.

They make me human.

💜 Hard Days Don’t Cancel Strong Ones

This one deserves repeating:

You are allowed to have hard days.

A hard day doesn’t mean you’ve stopped fighting.

Resting doesn’t mean you’ve given up.

Canceling plans doesn’t make you unreliable.

Needing help doesn’t make you weak.

Changing plans because your body changed the plans first doesn’t make you difficult.

Sometimes taking care of yourself looks productive.

Sometimes it looks like doing absolutely nothing.

And sometimes it looks like lying in bed negotiating with your body like you’re in a hostage situation.

“Listen, if you let me get through this ONE thing, I promise we can rest afterward.”

My body:

Terms and conditions apply. 😂

And somehow, I keep attempting these negotiations despite my absolutely terrible success rate.

But I’m learning something.

Listening to my body isn’t surrendering to chronic illness.

Rest isn’t waving a white flag.

Sometimes listening, adjusting, stopping, or asking for help is the smartest form of resistance I have.

💜 Maybe I’ve Been Worried About the Wrong Thing

Of everything in that message, these were the words I couldn’t shake:

You are not too much.

Because how many times have those of us living with chronic illness made ourselves smaller because we didn’t want our illness to inconvenience someone else?

We apologize for needing accommodations.

We apologize for canceling.

We apologize for talking about what we’re experiencing.

We apologize for needing rest.

We apologize for asking people to understand.

Sometimes we even apologize for things completely outside our control.

Sorry my body didn’t consult everyone’s calendar before malfunctioning.

Apparently Crohn’s and MG missed that meeting.

Again.

But my diagnoses already take enough from me.

They don’t also get to convince me that I am a burden simply because I have needs.

That distinction matters.

There is a difference between having needs and being needy.

There is a difference between requiring support and being a burden.

There is a difference between having limitations and being incapable.

And there is a difference between having a lot to carry and being too much.

I am carrying a lot.

Some days, more than I would ever choose to carry.

But I’m learning not to confuse the weight of what I carry with the value of the person carrying it.

The weight of what I carry does not determine my worth.

I am not too much.

🎵 Music Playing…

“Try” — Colbie Caillat

Because sometimes we spend so much energy trying to appear okay, trying not to inconvenience anyone, and trying to become the version of ourselves everyone else can comfortably handle that we forget something:

We do not have to perform wellness for anyone.

I don’t owe anyone a healthier-looking version of myself.

I don’t have to smile through symptoms so someone else feels better.

I don’t have to turn every hard moment into an inspirational lesson before I’m allowed to experience it.

Some days, showing up exactly as I am is enough.

And some days, showing up for myself may be the most important thing I do.

💭 Reflection Corner

Have you ever automatically said “I’m fine” when you were anything but fine?

Have you ever worried that your illness, symptoms, emotions, accommodations, or needs were becoming “too much” for the people around you?

Have you ever apologized for something your body did that you couldn’t control?

I know I have.

So maybe today we practice something different.

Maybe when someone we trust asks how we’re doing, we give ourselves permission to tell the truth.

Maybe instead of apologizing for having a hard day, we simply acknowledge that we’re having one.

Maybe we stop measuring our strength by how much we can endure without help.

Maybe we stop measuring our worth by how little support we require.

And maybe we remind ourselves:

I am allowed to need support.
I am allowed to rest.
I am allowed to feel what I feel.
I am allowed to have hard days.
I am allowed to tell the truth about those hard days.
I do not have to pretend I’m okay to make other people comfortable.

And most importantly:

I am not too much.

Neither are you.

💬 Your turn: What would change if you stopped apologizing for the things your chronic illness requires of you?

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💜 Thank you for spending a little time with me inside The Dual Diagnosis Diaries.

If this entry spoke to you, made you laugh, made you think, or reminded you that you aren’t alone, please like, subscribe, share, or send it to someone who may need this reminder too.

Every share helps bring more understanding to the realities of living with chronic illness—and may help another warrior realize there is a community that gets it.

Until next time, remember:

Your hard days are part of your story, but they are not the whole story.

You can need help and still be strong.
You can have limits and still live fully.
You can have hard days and still be making progress.

The things you carry may be heavy.

That does not make you too much.

Founder • Author • Advocate • Future Wellness Coach
Kia Lorice
The Dual Diagnosis Diaries 💜