You Don’t Look Like You Are In Pain

Ok. So tell me. What DOES someone with chronic pain look like exactly?

So I just recently read an article by a woman who had just lost her best friend to suicide because she was in so much pain and no one believed that she had fibromyalgia.

How can this still be happening? How?

Yes, Fibromyalgia is an invisible illness, but it is a chronic pain disease. It has officially been entered into the International Classification of Diseases Classification Manual (the ICD-10-CM) used by doctors worldwide. Fibromyalgia has been named the second most diagnosed rheumatoid disorder according to the BBC World News. There are commercials explaining Fibromyalgia on TV! What else needs to be done?

It is common for those of us with invisible illnesses to not be believed. We lose friends, family, employment, and our sense of self-worth. We isolate but in public, we shine. We work to put on an acceptable outfit, make sure we have some color on our cheeks and cover up the dark circles under our eyes. We smile through the pain. We walk down the street with grace even though every step makes us feel like crying. We make sure no one sees us fight back that pain.

Why? Because we are used to not being believed.

No one should have to prove to someone else that they are truly unwell. Suffering in silence is literally taking lives. And its just not right.

Soon, And Very Soon

I will walk the rest of my life with secrets inside of me that even the ppl I love most will never know.

I hold so much darkness within my mind.

My heart shatters a little bit more with every single beat.

My body is bent and broken from the weight that I carry. 

I am struggling just to breathe for my insides are just writhing in pain.


there will be nothing left but a pile of black nothingness.

Very very soon.

I don’t know how to be anything other than intense. I don’t know how to experience things without feeling too much or thinking too much. I don’t know how to sit still and be quiet and just let my mind be. I’m always searching, questioning, and struggling to find the meaning behind everything. I’m passionate and deep. And I am very misunderstood. But I’m ok with that.

Silent Frustration 

Well this ends the second week of being sick and having laryngitis. I have come to realize how incredibly difficult life is when you don’t have a voice to communicate with along with the fact that I am an amputee with only one arm. Trying to get my message across with only the use of simple signs made with one hand has left me so exasperated that tonight I feel like screaming and tearing my hair out. 



Little Girls Make Me Sad

Of every 1,000 sex assaults in Canada, there are three convictions.

In countries where rape is used as an instrument of war and in countries where women march under skyscrapers to “take back the night,” the reasons women stay silent are the same – shame, and stigma, and fear of not being believed, and fear of being hounded, and a desire to just get some place beyond the pain. They worry about what their families will think. They worry about “ruining” the life of a man who is, in many cases, known to the victim. They worry about entering the dark tunnel of the justice system, with no actual promise of justice at the end.

As one of Mr. Ghomeshi’s accusers said this week, “A lot of us are really afraid right now. Afraid of backlash, afraid of what he might do or say to discredit us, afraid of what the public might think, afraid of having our privacy invaded, afraid of having our jobs affected.” Another of the women, who had remained silent for 10 years and spoke anonymously to CBC Radio’s As it Happens, said, “When this came to light a few days ago, it gave me permission to speak, and I thought, ‘Maybe someone will listen to me now.’ Because I don’t think, if I’d said anything back then, that anyone would care.”

Women all over the world are still blamed for the violence committed against them. Think about that ….

They are blamed if they speak out, and if they don’t.

It’s a wonder anyone comes forward at all. It took me personally 4 years of enduring sexual abuse before I let a single word come out of my mouth about what was happening to me – regularly – for 4. Long. Years. After my experiences then with the courts and the justice system, I often wish I had never spoken about it. The guy still walks free. And I have been invisibly marked in a way that anyone who knows me, also knows me as the girl who took “him” to court. Not the girl who was victimized by this monster. but by the one who is the reason he had to go before a judge.

Sad part is that they tend to forget that I, too, had to go before a judge. And most likely, I was more afraid then he was, and HE was the one in the wrong. But that’s how it goes.

I feel a little sting of sadness in my heart whenever I see young girls …. and I wonder when I look at them –

“Is it happening to you too?”