Invisible Disabilities Week | October 18â24, 2026
Dear Diary,
Today marks the beginning of Invisible Disabilities Week, a time dedicated to raising awareness about something millions of people live with every day, yet far too many still struggle to understand.
Just because you canât see someoneâs illness doesnât mean it isnât there.
I am what someone living with an invisible illness looks like.
I smile. I laugh. I work. I travel. I enjoy spending time with family and friends. I go to Disney, take vacations, and occasionally convince myself that I still have the energy of a perfectly healthy 25-year-old.
Spoiler alert: My body usually has a different opinion. đ
But behind that smile is a reality that doesnât always make it into photographs, conversations, or social media posts.
A reality involving two autoimmune diseases, countless medical appointments, ongoing treatments, unpredictable symptoms, and a body that occasionally forgets weâre supposed to be on the same team.
And hereâs the thing.
You wouldnât necessarily know any of that just by looking at me.
đ Invisible Illness vs. Invisible Disability: Whatâs the Difference?
An invisible illness is a medical condition that may not produce obvious outward signs, even when it significantly affects someoneâs health and quality of life.
An invisible disability involves limitations that arenât immediately apparent to others but can substantially affect major life activities such as walking, breathing, eating, working, or caring for oneself.
Not every invisible illness automatically qualifies as a disability. However, many chronic conditions can become disabling depending on their severity and how they affect daily functioning.
Inflammatory Bowel Disease (IBD), which includes Crohnâs Disease and Ulcerative Colitis, is one example.
Living with IBD may involve:
- Painful, unpredictable disease flares
- Chronic fatigue that sleep doesnât necessarily resolve
- Hospitalizations and potentially life-altering surgeries
- Biologic infusions or self-injections for some patients
- Daily medications and ongoing monitoring
- Bloodwork, imaging, colonoscopies, and other procedures
- Nutritional deficiencies and complications
Not everyone with IBD experiences all these challenges or requires the same treatments.
But for those who do, the physical and emotional toll can be enormous.
And because much of it happens internally, the outside world may never recognize the struggle.
Invisible doesnât mean insignificant.
đŚ My Two Uninvited Roommates: Crohnâs and MG
If youâve been following my journey, you already know I have two roommates who apparently signed lifetime leases without my permission.
Crohnâs Disease moved in back in 2003.
Then Myasthenia Gravis decided to join the party years later.
Neither pays rent.
Neither respects boundaries.
And both have an impressive talent for making their presence known at the most inconvenient times. đđ
Crohnâs can turn an ordinary day into an urgent search for the nearest bathroom, accompanied by abdominal pain, fatigue, and symptoms that couldnât care less about my schedule.
MG has its own approach.
It affects communication between nerves and muscles, causing weakness that can interfere with everything from holding my head upright to swallowing, speaking, and breathing.
And I donât mean that figuratively.
There was a time when the muscles responsible for helping me breathe werenât functioning properly. My vocal cords were affected, and testing confirmed that my diaphragm was also paralyzed.
Think about that for a moment.
Breathing. Something most people do without giving it a second thought.
For me, it became something I had to consciously struggle through.
Yet someone looking at me might never have understood just how much effort it required.
Thatâs the reality of invisible illness.
A person can appear perfectly fine while experiencing symptoms that are frightening, exhausting, and sometimes life-threatening.
And when Crohnâs and MG decide to act up together?
Well, apparently teamwork is their strongest quality.
Too bad they never use that teamwork for anything productive. đ
đ âBut You Donât Look Sickâ
If I had a dollar for every time someone said, âBut you donât look sick,â I might have enough money to cover a few medical bills.
Well, maybe a copay. Letâs not get carried away. đ
I understand that people donât always mean harm when they say it.
Sometimes itâs intended as a compliment. Other times, itâs genuine surprise.
But those five little words can carry an unintended message:
If I canât see your illness, how serious can it really be?
And that is where misunderstanding begins.
Illness doesnât have a required appearance.
Disability doesnât always involve a wheelchair, mobility aid, or another visible indicator.
And having a good day doesnât mean someone has suddenly been cured.
I can attend a meeting, enjoy a vacation, or spend time with my family while still managing symptoms that nobody around me recognizes.
What people see is the moment.
What they donât always see is the preparation, the medications, the treatments, the recovery time, or the careful calculation of how much energy I have available.
Sometimes participating in an ordinary activity requires extraordinary effort.
Looking healthy and being healthy are not the same thing.
And no one should have to repeatedly prove their suffering to deserve understanding.
đť The Sunflower: A Symbol of What You Cannot See
Anyone who knows me knows Iâve always loved sunflowers.
Long before I understood their connection to hidden disabilities, they were already my favorite flower.
Thereâs something about their brightness and resilience that has always spoken to me.
So imagine discovering that the sunflower is also an internationally recognized symbol associated with hidden disabilities.
The Hidden Disabilities Sunflower program allows individuals with non-visible disabilities to discreetly communicate that they may need additional time, patience, understanding, or assistance.
The sunflower lanyard doesnât identify a specific diagnosis.
It simply sends a message:
There may be something about my experience that you cannot see.
And I love that.
Because not everyone wants to explain their medical history to a stranger.
Not everyone has the energy to justify why they need help.
And not every disability announces itself when someone walks into a room.
Sometimes a little awareness, a little patience, and a simple symbol can make an enormous difference.
For me, the sunflower represents something Iâve come to understand deeply.
You can be bright, beautiful, and full of life while still navigating struggles beneath the surface.
đŚ Awareness Is More Than a Designated Week
Invisible Disabilities Week is important because it creates an opportunity for education and conversation.
But awareness shouldnât end when the week is over.
It should change how we treat people.
It means understanding that symptoms fluctuate.
It means recognizing that someone who was able to do something yesterday may genuinely struggle with it today.
It means respecting accommodations without assuming someone is receiving special treatment.
It means understanding that rest isnât laziness, fatigue isnât a lack of motivation, and asking for help isnât weakness.
And perhaps most importantly, it means believing people when they tell us what theyâre experiencing.
You donât need to understand every diagnosis.
You donât need to know every medication or medical procedure.
You donât even need to fully comprehend what living with a particular condition feels like.
You just need to recognize that someoneâs experience is real, even when it looks different from your own.
Compassion doesnât require a medical degree.
It requires a willingness to listen.
đ I Am More Than My Diagnoses
Hereâs something else I want people to understand.
I am not just Crohnâs Disease.
I am not just Myasthenia Gravis.
I am not a collection of medical records, prescriptions, test results, and specialist appointments.
I am a woman who loves her family, values her friendships, enjoys traveling, finds peace near the ocean, loves Disney, and believes laughter can make even the most difficult days a little easier.
I am also a woman living with serious chronic illnesses.
Both things can be true.
I can be happy and hurting.
I can be strong and exhausted.
I can appreciate my life while grieving the things my illnesses have changed.
I can look beautiful in a photograph and feel absolutely terrible five minutes later.
None of those things makes my illnesses less real.
And none of my diagnoses takes away the person I am.
My illnesses are part of my story.
But they are not the entirety of who I am.
đľ Music PlayingâŚ
âRise Upâ â Andra Day
Because sometimes resilience isnât about conquering every obstacle or pretending everything is okay.
Sometimes itâs about finding the strength to face another day, even when yesterday took everything you had.
And sometimes, rising up means giving yourself permission to rest before trying again.
đ Reflection Corner
Invisible Disabilities Week reminds me that awareness begins with education, but meaningful change happens through compassion.
For years, Iâve navigated illnesses that donât always announce themselves to the world.
Some days I handle it gracefully.
Other days, Crohnâs and MG have me questioning who authorized this particular circus. đ
But I also know Iâm not alone.
There are millions of people navigating invisible illnesses and disabilities while building lives, pursuing dreams, caring for loved ones, and finding reasons to smile.
Their struggles may not be visible, but their experiences deserve to be acknowledged.
You donât have to see someoneâs struggle to respect it.
You donât have to experience someoneâs pain to believe it.
And you donât have to understand every illness to show compassion.
As for me?
Iâll keep showing up, sharing my story, advocating for awareness, and reminding my two roommates that they still owe me rent.
Crohnâs has nearly 23 years of unpaid rent, and MG is already behind.
Although at this point, Iâm pretty sure theyâre both claiming squatterâs rights. đđđ
đŹ Letâs Talk About It
If you live with an invisible illness or disability, what is one thing you wish others understood about your experience?
And if you donât, what is one thing you can do to make someone living with an invisible condition feel more supported?
Share your thoughts in the comments.
Your experience, your compassion, or your willingness to listen may make a bigger difference than you realize.
đ Until Next TimeâŚ
Remember, every person carries a story that isnât always visible.
Some battles are fought quietly. Some victories happen behind closed doors. And some of the strongest people youâll ever meet are the ones whose struggles you never knew existed.
Be kind. Be compassionate. And never mistake someoneâs smile for proof that they arenât struggling.
Because invisible does not mean imaginary.
And being seen shouldnât be a requirement for being believed.
Living with one autoimmune disease is challenging. Living with two requires resilience.
Welcome to The Dual Diagnosis Diaries, where I share the realities of navigating life with Crohnâs Disease and Myasthenia Gravisâone day, one treatment, and one lesson at a time.
With love, laughter, and a little purple awareness, đ
Kia Lorice
Founder ⢠Author ⢠Advocate ⢠Future Wellness Coach
The Dual Diagnosis Diaries
đ https://thedualdiagnosisdiaries.com

Leave a Reply