As I awake to greet another morning, my eyes linger upon my ceiling for a couple minutes. I can already feel my body radiating pain through my body. I find every once of energy to pull myself out of bed. When you’re chronically ill, you are well accustomed to the comfort of your own bed. I have a love hate relationship with mine. Truly, my bed has seen more days with me then I’d like to admit. My bladder reminds me that I am living with interstitial cystitis as it feels like someone lit a fire to it. I sigh, get up and use the bathroom.

Slowly, I make the realization that I need to get dressed for the day. As I put the clothes on my body, I get about halfway until I need to sit for a minute. I continue getting dressed as the pain sparks throughout my body. Clothes have turned into another unfortunate mishap of my day. Some days, I simply don’t have the energy to brush my hair or wash it.

Continuing on my day, I start my school day from the comfort of my own home. I am lucky to attend online college. As I read multiple chapters and take notes, I collapse in exhaustion. I fall asleep while taking notes.

Today is grocery shopping day. I’m dreading it. I see the electronic carts that people use and get a sense of jealousy. I wish I could use those without getting stares. I am 20 years old and this is the life I live. Looking at them, I wish that I could show people what my body is going through on the inside. I long to visualize the pain to people.

My family suggests going on a hike. I love nature. Truly, I miss the days I could hike without having to worry about the bathroom or having to stop. I put on a brave smile and agree. My body does not know how to handle this hike. My knees frequently buckle. I can not do the things I once loved, and feel an overwhelming sense of sadness. What I would give to live a “normal” life.

When I put my head to sleep, I let a quiet sigh of relief. The day is over. I’m back in the comfort of my bed. My body’s battery is on low and needs to be charged. I close my eyes, and hope for better days.

This is what can not be seen; invisible chronic illness.