But in reality, this is what 41 days of agony looks like. This is what happens when your invisible illness becomes visible. Those aren’t dark circles, that’s my skin sinking in so you can see the outline of my skull because I vault between in too much pain and too exhausted to eat. If I’m not heavily drugged I sleep maybe an hour a night total when I can snatch it. Not pictured are my joints which stay swollen no matter how much I elevate and soak, the places my skin is burnt or broken out into a rash from low grade sun exposure, the way you can look at me too hard and bruise me like old fruit, my hair falling out from stress no matter how gentle I am with it, the way it hurts to be touched — the 7 simultaneous types of pain machine gunning through my central nervous system nonstop for 41 days. Not pictured is the humiliation of doctors insinuating after you finally cave and go to an ER or an urgent care or seek out a general practitioner that you’re in it for a quick high and not five minutes of genuine peace. Not pictured is the dozens on dozens of people insinuating you’re too stupid or too stubborn to see a doctor despite nearly 20 years of incorrect lazy diagnoses, insults, over medication, under medication, and seeing goddamn near every specialist in the city by the time you were 16. Not pictured is the haze of pain and semi-awareness that makes it impossible to remember anything without writing it down at least twice. Not pictured is the 40+ hours of work a week you can’t afford to miss. Not pictured is the 40+ hour school week, 14 units, and existing in the hell dimension of finals season while begging your teachers to understand why you keep missing class because some day you want to have a career that isn’t slowly killing you. Not pictured is not qualifying for disability because you can do things you have no choice not to do. I don’t look sick. I don’t look sick, but I’ve been sick for 18 years and it took me 9 to get a concrete diagnosis. I don’t look sick because I’m usually wearing 20 pounds of paint and sparkle and smoke and mirrors so I can stand to look at myself. I don’t look sick — until I do. #suffersquad #fibromyalgia #invisibleillness