You wake up feeling more tired than when you went to bed the night before.
You take more meds than your 90-year-old granny.
Your house looks like a medical supply store. You have shower seats, grab bars, wheelchairs, scooters, walkers, canes, etc because some days you’re lucky enough to only need the cane, but other days you need the wheelchair.
You get wonderful advice from total strangers. Like: Have you tried: (insert whatever fad is in style right now, Aleve, exercising more, prayer, etc.; If you had more faith, you would be healed. My brother, aunt, mother, uncle, etc had that and did (insert wild advice here like drinking pickle juice or taking vinegar every morning.
After paying for your meds every month, you’re too broke to have fun…not that you have the energy to do anything fun.
People give you dirty looks or even make hateful comments when you park in a disabled parking space because “you don’t look sick”.
You’re convinced blister packs are the work of the devil.
Brain fog is very real. It causes you to do some weird things like forgetting to turn off the stove. Miss appointments, etc.
When you rent a mobility scooter at a theme park, you get strange looks and the occasional eye roll.
You have a love/hate relationship with steroids. They make you feel better, but they cause incredible hunger and weight gain.
Your hands swell and turn red with a flare making you nice and colorful.
If you had a ribbon on your social media profile for each disease you’ve been diagnosed with, there would be no room for your photo.
You’ve learned to overcome that irrational fear and become an expert at giving yourself shots.
Most of your friends are now online friends who have the same or similar illnesses because they understand you.