This week is Invisible Illness Awareness week. At first it might be difficult to think of a condition that doesn’t have any visual give aways, but once you start naming them the list grows quickly. There are Mental Illnesses, Inflammatory Bowel Diseases, Cancers, Autoimmune Conditions and multiple Nerve Disorders. Many sufferers will look completely normal from the outside but will be facing a host of physical, medical or emotional challenges just below the surface.

I am 23, 5’7 and 126lb. I have ten fingers and ten toes, no visible deformities, I don’t use a crutch or a wheelchair and I’m careful to hide my supports and taping under my clothes. As far as anyone can see I am just another busy body going about my life in the city.

What you can’t see is that I have Hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome – a connective tissue disorder characterised by reduced or faulty Collagen. It causes excessive movement in my joints, frequent dislocations and subluxations, ligament laxity and chronic pain.

As a result of Ehlers-Danlos I have also developed Fibromyalgia (a nerve and chemical condition resulting in too many pain signals firing) and Rheumatoid Arthritis.

My other invisible vice is the chronic pain and discomfort caused by these conditions. It can be hard to communicate this without appearing to be moaning or full of self pity. Some days my pain is comparable to white noise in my bones; it’s annoying but perfectly bearable. Other days it feels like there’s a lightening storm shooting from my spine and every joint in my body is so full of pressure and heat I think they’ll shatter. Needless to say on these day, my mood is slightly sub-par and my interest in anything other than the bath or bed dissipates entirely.

Now, someone with a cast on will automatically be treated with consideration for the fact they may be in pain, there will be enquiries as to their well being and allowances made for a dry mood or a challenged sense of humour.

The same isn’t true for someone with an invisible illness. If we do not smile and laugh through whatever battle it is we are facing, we are grumpy people or we have a bad attitude. If someone with an invisible illness leaves an event early because they’re fatigued they may be deemed antisocial or aloof.

Some outspoken strangers will even comment on our behaviour. A week ago I took the lift from the ground floor to my first floor office. After dislocating my knee five times in three weeks causing me to fall down the stairs twice, I am avoiding my buildings stone, spiral staircase like the plague. As the doors opened on the first floor, the stranger next to me decided to remark “Well that is lazy, you’re too young to get away with that”.

I chose not to respond, gave her a meek half smile and watched the lift doors close. Suppose I had been tremoring in the way someone with Parkinson’s would, she would either have said nothing at all, wished me well, or may even have observed that my choice not to pick a fight with a marble staircase was a wise one.

The point here is, you cannot always see what problems a person is dealing with. Being ill is hard enough without having to force good humour or being chastised for actions that don’t make immediate sense to others. This is absolutely not to say those with visible illness suffer any less, never being able to hide your condition brings it’s own trials but as I don’t have a visible illness I don’t feel qualified to expand on this.

If you know someone has an invisible illness, don’t be afraid to ask them how they are. We are often very isolated by our conditions so it’s nice to know someone cares. If you see someone using a lift, a disabled parking space or coming out of a disabled bathroom, rather than assume they are lazy or a bad person, smile at them or tell them you hope they’re okay! If they are misusing facilities your kindness will make them very uncomfortable, and if they’re not you might just make their invisible fight for that day a little easier.