The Dual Diagnosis Diaries: 💜 What I Would Tell Another Warrior on Their Worst Day

Dear Diary,

If I could sit beside another chronic illness warrior on one of their worst days, I don’t think I would start with advice.

I wouldn’t tell them to stay positive.

I wouldn’t remind them that everything happens for a reason.

And I definitely wouldn’t tell them to “just stay strong.”

Because sometimes?

We are tired of being strong.

Sometimes we don’t need another motivational speech. Sometimes we just need somebody who understands to sit beside us and say:

I know this is hard. You don’t have to pretend with me.

And maybe that’s what I wish someone had told me on some of my worst days.

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💜 You Don’t Have to Be a Warrior Today

We use the word warrior a lot in the chronic illness community.

Fight.
Stay strong.
Keep pushing.
Don’t give up.

There is power in those words.

But somewhere along the way, I think some of us started believing that being a warrior means we aren’t allowed to get tired of fighting.

We are.

You can be strong and exhausted.

Hopeful and angry.

Grateful for your life and completely fed up with the body you’re living it in.

Those things can exist at the same time.

There have been days when I didn’t feel particularly warrior-like.

I didn’t want to fight anybody.

Crohn’s was acting foolish. MG had apparently scheduled an unauthorized staff meeting. My body had submitted approximately 47 complaints, and management—also me—had absolutely no idea how to resolve them.

😂💜

On those days, I didn’t need somebody reminding me how strong I was.

I needed permission to stop proving it.

Resting doesn’t erase all the days you’ve fought.

Crying doesn’t cancel your resilience.

Cancelling plans isn’t failure.

Asking for help isn’t weakness.

And saying “I hate this today” doesn’t mean you’ve given up.

Sometimes being a warrior means putting the sword down.

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🦋 Some Battles Don’t Look Like Battles

Crohn’s has taught me that sometimes the battle happens behind a bathroom door.

MG has taught me that sometimes the battle is simply trying to get muscles to do what I’m asking them to do.

Chronic illness has taught me that some of the hardest battles a person will ever fight are completely invisible to everyone around them.

There are no medals for getting out of bed when your body feels like concrete.

Nobody applauds because you showered when fatigue told you not to bother.

There isn’t an award ceremony because you made another doctor’s appointment after the last one left you frustrated.

And sometimes nobody knows how much energy it took for you to simply show up.

But you know.

So if today’s biggest accomplishments were surviving, taking your medication, and relocating from the bed to the couch?

I’m counting all three.

We are NOT letting chronic illness move the goalposts and judge the score.

Pick a struggle. 😂

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🌻 Your Worst Day Is Not Your Whole Story

Chronic illness has a nasty little habit of convincing us that today is forever.

When you’re hurting, it’s difficult to remember what it feels like not to hurt.

When you’re struggling to breathe, it’s hard to imagine breathing comfortably again.

When fatigue has taken over your entire body, you wonder whether you’ll ever feel like yourself again.

And when you’ve spent months bouncing between doctors, specialists, tests, medications, treatments, procedures, insurance companies, and unanswered questions, hope can start feeling like another chore on the to-do list.

But one terrible day doesn’t get to write your entire story.

Bodies change.

Symptoms fluctuate.

Treatments change.

Circumstances change.

And sometimes the version of life waiting for us isn’t the life we had before chronic illness.

I’ve had to learn that different doesn’t automatically mean less.

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💜 Believe What Your Body Is Telling You

There is something else I would tell another warrior because I had to learn it myself:

You know when something isn’t right.

You may not know the medical terminology.

You may not know which specialist needs to hear it.

You may not know which test will finally provide an answer.

But you live inside your body every single day.

If something has changed, keep speaking.

If you aren’t being heard, say it again.

If you still aren’t being heard, find another set of ears whenever you have that option.

Advocating for yourself while you’re already sick is exhausting.

Sometimes ridiculously exhausting.

But your symptoms deserve to be heard.

Your concerns deserve to be addressed.

And you deserve to be part of the conversation about your own body.

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💜 If Today Is Your Worst Day…

You don’t have to inspire anybody today.

You don’t have to make chronic illness look graceful.

You don’t have to turn today’s pain into tomorrow’s inspirational social media post.

You don’t have to find the lesson yet.

You can be angry.

You can be tired.

You can grieve what you had planned.

You can say this isn’t fair.

You can ask for help.

You can rest without earning it first.

You can turn your phone off.

You can cry.

You can laugh.

You can do absolutely nothing productive.

Your only responsibility today is getting through today in whatever way your body allows.

And tomorrow?

If all you can do is try again…

That is enough.

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😂 Please Keep Your Sense of Humor—When You Can

I would also tell another warrior that it’s okay to laugh.

Not because any of this is funny.

Although, let’s be honest, chronic illness occasionally produces situations so absurd that somebody somewhere owes us an explanation.

But humor has carried me through moments when crying was the other available option.

My autoimmune roommates certainly provide enough material.

Crohn’s has absolutely no respect for bathrooms, schedules, vacations, meetings, cute outfits, or basic human dignity.

MG apparently believes breathing, swallowing, talking, holding my head upright, and basic muscle function are optional extracurricular activities.

And somehow I’m responsible for keeping everybody in this household under control.

Rude.

So yes, cry when you need to.

Get angry.

Complain.

Rest.

But when the opportunity presents itself, laugh.

Laughter doesn’t minimize what we’re going through.

Sometimes laughter is how we survive it.

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🦋 You Are Still You

Chronic illness can change a lot.

Your schedule.
Your body.
Your energy.
Your friendships.
Your relationships.
Your career.
Your finances.
Your priorities.
Your confidence.
Even the way you imagine your future.

But underneath the diagnoses, medication lists, appointment summaries, lab results, infusion schedules, insurance authorization numbers, and patient portal messages…

you are still a whole person.

You are not Crohn’s.

You are not MG.

You are not your flare.

You are not your worst symptom.

You are not your medical chart.

And you are certainly not your worst day.

You are still you.

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💜 Give Yourself What You Would Give Me

If I were sitting beside another warrior on their worst day, eventually I would tell them one more thing:

Give yourself the same compassion you would give me.

Because that’s the part we sometimes forget.

I would never look at another person struggling to breathe and tell them they weren’t trying hard enough.

I wouldn’t tell someone curled up in pain that they should be more productive.

I wouldn’t tell someone exhausted from treatment that resting made them lazy.

I wouldn’t tell another warrior that needing help made them weak.

So why do we sometimes say those things to ourselves?

If I wouldn’t expect it from you, I shouldn’t demand it from me.

Maybe that’s something all of us living with chronic illness need to remember.

We deserve some of the compassion we so freely give everyone else.

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“On your worst day, you do not owe the world strength. Sometimes being a warrior simply means staying, resting, accepting help, and giving yourself permission to try again tomorrow.”

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🎵 Music Playing…

“Rise Up” — Andra Day

Not because every day requires us to rise triumphantly.

Sometimes rising means getting out of bed.

Sometimes it means asking for help.

Sometimes it means resting today so we can try again tomorrow.

And sometimes?

Just still being here counts.

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💭 Reflection Corner

I started this entry thinking about what I would say to another warrior on their worst day.

But somewhere along the way, I realized something.

Most of the words I would give another person so freely…

I need to remember to give myself too.

Grace.

Patience.

Permission to rest.

Permission to be frustrated.

Permission to not have everything figured out.

Maybe the question isn’t only:

“What would you say to another warrior on their worst day?”

Maybe we should also ask:

Would you say those same compassionate words to yourself?

Because we deserve them too.

💜 To my fellow chronic illness warriors: What is one thing you wish someone had told you on your worst day?

And if someone reading the comments happens to be having that day right now, maybe your words will be exactly what they needed to hear.

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💜 Until next time, remember: your diagnosis may be part of your story, but it does not get to write the whole book.

Living with two autoimmune diseases isn’t easy—but neither is giving up, and I’ve never been particularly good at that.

With love, honesty, and a little humor,
Kia Lorice
Founder • Author • Advocate • Future Wellness Coach
The Dual Diagnosis Diaries