The Danger of Invisibility

I love watching Medical Shows on TV. Perhaps it’s me channeling my inner desire to be a doctor, nurse or paramedic (curse you fear of needles and blood!). But there is just something about these shows that captivates me. I know that they’re not the most realistic portrayal of life within a hospital, but like I said, I just love watching them. Lately, my newest “obsession” is with the show, New Amsterdam. Now for those of you who don’t watch, or share my love for all things medical, the show is about a doctor named Max Goodwin, who just became the Medical Director of New Amsterdam Hospital in New York City. His primary focus is ensuring all patients receive the medical care they need, despite lack of insurance or funding. He’s known in the show for challenging hospital policies, doing things the unconventional way, pushing boundaries (to save patients) and reigniting doctors’ love for medicine. He puts everyone before himself. However, Max is currently fighting a battle with cancer and, without ruining anything, he’s not doing well. He’s more focused on creating a Medical Plan for the uninsured, than fighting his cancer. But what Max is doing in the show really isn’t my point (though, you should watch the show, it’s good, trust me). My point lies within one simple line that a character said to Max in the episode on Tuesday. It was so quick, I could have easily missed the moment, but I’m so thankful that I caught it.

There was a young man who came into the Emergency Department. While Max was interacting with him, the patient said something that struck me right in the feels, so much so I almost jolted up out of my seat. I texted the quote to my mom (who was also watching the show live), followed by another text saying, “Boom. That hit me in the feels”. Sitting on a bed in New Amsterdam’s Emergency Department, the young man spat out the following words in frustration, “Being invisible is almost worse than being sick.”

Now, you’ve probably noticed that I named my blog, “Fighting the Invisible”. I titled it that because I wanted to raise awareness about Mental Illness because they often appear invisible unless you really know what you’re looking for. I became so frustrated with people asking me when I was going to return to work because I looked healthy. Or people accusing me of “skipping” out on work by “faking” an illness. Just because I don’t wear a cast or use a wheel chair doesn’t mean that I’m not sick. It just means that you can’t see it, but that doesn’t make it any less real.

Now, the character who made this comment wasn’t referring to battling Mental Illness. He was actually talking about how when he revealed he had no medical insurance, hospitals wouldn’t look at him or treat him anymore. However, his comment sparked an “ah-ha” moment in my brain – a description I’ve been lacking the words for. It’s a line that I haven’t been able to get out of my head since I heard it.

Something that I haven’t explicitly touched on yet is that battling a Mental Illness makes me feel invisible. So, when that character said the line of his script, I related. Because not only do I fight Invisible Illnesses, I feel invisible. And to be honest, I’m not sure which one is worse some days. Or if there is even a separation of the two.

There are moments when I reveal that I am struggling with Mental Illness to someone that I feel the same way that patient at New Amsterdam did. I feel dismissed, judged and ultimately, I feel invisible. The way they treat me, look at me, talk to me, it all shifts, similar to how that young man felt in the Emergency. Mental Illness makes people uncomfortable. They often struggle with how to respond, how to treat us because something has suddenly made us “different”. We’ve become that elephant in the room that no one wants to talk about. We become that uncomfortable thing no one wants to think about. They’re so scared of doing or saying the “wrong thing” that they just don’t say anything at all. We’re the thing that gets pushed in the corner and forgotten. We become invisible.

But not only that, my illness itself makes me feel invisible. The thoughts that I fight in my head daily make me wonder if anyone really sees me. If it really matters that I’m here. I struggle with the feelings of guilt and inadequacy for not being able to work. I can’t contribute anything to society. Is fighting this battle really worth it? Will I matter in the end? Will I be able to make a difference? Is this invisibility a sign?

Now, I know that my family and a few close friends see me and they’d notice if I was gone. And I do believe that I am struggling for a reason and that I have a story to tell. But my brain often tells me that not only am I fighting an illness no one can see, no one even sees me at all. Now, part of that statement is true, as I’ve been so afraid to leave my house that no one literally sees me. If my car wasn’t parked in my spot, my neighbors wouldn’t even know that I am here. I’m invisible. When I do manage to go out, to get groceries or my prescriptions, I feel like a robot. I’m there, walking around, seeing people, but it feels like I’m just a spectator watching it on TV or am the computer making it run. I feel invisible. I know I’m there, but I don’t feel like I’m there. I feel like no one sees me, and I fear that no one ever will.

When I’ve asked former students’ what superpower they’d have if they could pick one, many of them said, “I’d want to be invisible!” They thought it would be so cool to go wherever they wanted and have no one see them. To be honest, I think I’ve even picked that power once when a kiddo asked me. But now that I’m here, in this space, in this state, I can’t help but think that invisibility is the worst. Invisibility is dangerous.

The young man in that TV show said that, “Being invisible is almost worse than being sick.” At first, I thought I agreed with that statement, but now, I would amend it to say, “Being invisible IS worse than being sick”. When you’re invisible, no one sees your struggle. When you feel invisible, you feel that no one cares that you’re struggling. You feel you have no one to reach out to and that if you do, no one will help you. You’ve seen the altered expressions, tones and feelings so many times and seen that cold shoulder turn away enough to never want it to happen again. You’ve been shoved into the corner, dismissed and judged enough to the point where you wish you truly were invisible. I get it. It hurts. I know how it feels to be in a room full of people and feel so alone. I know how it feels to have people look over you or around you, avoiding eye contact with you. I know how it feels to be invisible. And I also know how it feels to be invisible while fighting an invisible illness.

Invisibility on its own is dangerous. There are many people in our world who are neglected and who feel invisible. I’ve seen videos of social experiments done on this very thing – how a person’s response changes when the circumstances presented to them are “abnormal”. How people try to pretend like they don’t see that dirty, ragged child on the corner. People should never be invisible. Ever. But people who are struggling especially shouldn’t be invisible. Because we can’t do this on our own. It’s so freaking hard to fight, every single day. I have to fight to live each day. I have to fight to get out of bed. To not take too many pills at my morning & evening med times. I have to fight to feed myself, because it is so easy to just not eat when I don’t feel hungry or like being here anymore. I couldn’t do this without support. I couldn’t do this if my mom and grandma didn’t pre-make food for me for those really bad days when I can barely make it to the kitchen. I couldn’t survive these thoughts without my mom and boyfriend constantly reminding me that I’m loved, that I’m not alone and that they’ll never leave me. They remind me that I’m not invisible; that someone sees me, cares for me and will walk with me through this fight.

I started this blog to raise awareness about Mental Illness and to tell the story of someone who is in the darkest place right now. I’m so passionate about Breaking the Stigma that I’m literally sharing some of the darkest times of my life with complete strangers on the Internet. But yesterday I realized as I was watching one of my favorite TV shows, it’s not just stigma around Mental Health we need to end. We need to end invisibility. We need people to stand beside those whose lives look much different than the “ideal” and SEE them. You don’t need to fix them. You don’t need to buy them a house or give them your car. Don’t try to be the Fairy Godmother and make everything better with a flick of your wand. You just need to SEE them. See them where they’re at. You may not understand. In fact, you probably won’t. It’s hard when you haven’t lived that story. But what I find the most helpful in these extremely dark and painful days is having people constantly reminding me that I’m loved and that I’m not alone. I’m not invisible to them. They see me, they know I’m struggling; they can’t change things for me, but they can do the one thing they know how to do so very well – stand beside me and love me. Even though they can’t take away my pain, it helps just knowing someone sees me.

I don’t know what your story is or the things that you’ve lived through. I have my own journey of pain and suffering and trauma related Mental Illnesses, but this isn’t just about me. It’s about you, too. If you’re struggling, know that your story matters. You matter. You are not invisible. I see you. I’m cheering for you as we fight day by day. If you’re someone who is blessed with good Mental Health right now, I challenge you. I challenge you to see the invisible. To find those who feel like they’re on their own and have no hope and come beside them and say, “I see you”. Let’s not just break the stigma surrounding Mental Health. Let’s break invisibility. Let’s rally around each other, even if they’re a stranger and let them know that they are seen. Valuable.

I am so very thankful for the people in my life who make me feel seen. I’m thankful for a doctor and a psychologist who listened when I cried out and didn’t turn away and make me feel ashamed. I’m blessed with an incredible family and boyfriend who – well, let’s just say I wouldn’t be here without them. I have lots of support and this is still one hell of a battle. I can’t imagine doing it alone. Actually being invisible. That would, indeed, be worse than being sick.

Love,

Becca

Episode referenced is New Amsterdam, Season 1, Episode 21, “This Is Not The End” – Aired May 7th, 2019

Featured Image from Google – No Copyright Infringement Intended