Can Chronic Illnesses Ever Get Better?

Trigger Warning: Mental Health, Symptoms of Illnesses.

I know I am capable of love, I know that. But I feel like I am dissolving. I know this too shall pass, I know I have made progress with my health. Yet, I continue to battle everyday and a part of me still believes I will get better. Having spoken with my specialist about my brain activity I was encouraged to think about alternative ways of living. I go on social media and hear about ‘high energy’, ‘masculine energy’, ‘feminine energy’ and I simply lack energy. I look at my four walls when I relapse, I have unwelcome demons on my mind and every minor task to those who are able becomes my Everest.

I suppressed emotions as a child and continued with that method throughout my life. When my body began mimicking brain tumour symptoms my body gave up, and so did my mental health. And the more I think about my future I think is it going to be like this forever? Now I am a person of Faith, and I do believe that what’s meant to be is meant to be. I sit in a crowded room and feel invisible, sometimes the chronic pain is what makes me feel anything at all. And if all I am worth is pain surely that cannot be my purpose. I mean when I first received press coverage there was a Karen within a few minutes telling me publicly on Twitter that I couldn’t and shouldn’t make money from raising awareness. This person I believe sells mental health courses, but anyway. I am not naive enough to ignore how the world works and how it benefits one community more than the other. But this doesn’t exclude the way I feel sometimes, one of my favourite quotes was: “You make money to be seen, I make money to disappear.”-Quote by Unknown.

My voice has helped me and I do my best to amplify my voice, and you have to be careful in a society that is designed to fail you where you share your vulnerabilities. I am at a stage where I just don’t tolerate racism, the part where I am told I look healthy so should be silenced. Not every troll or hater deserves time or energy. And I am still learning to pace but now and again I can’t help thinking about how the old Shehla would have completed certain tasks and where I would be. No one really understands, people fade away, they ghost and sometimes it's easier to stay in mu bubble than venture out because I know it's all temporary. There’s no guarantee that my life would have been any better. I guess I just have to remember that.

I exist, I am here.

Written by: Shehla Ali