Recently, it seems like I've felt more sensitive than normal to things other people are saying around me. I'm noticing more often how many people get upset about how much homework they have, how tired they are from working their last shift, or how they don't feel like they see as many people as they want to. I listen, but as I do, I feel myself slowly shrivel up inside.
I am certainly not saying that healthy people can't have problems or trials in life. I know they do. I see healthy people struggling in different areas all around me. But homework, mild tiredness, and one less social event than desired aren't struggles. They're inconveniences.
If I could trade my life now for a busy life where I have to study for eight hours straight, work a double shift, or miss one social event a month, I would in a heartbeat. Because right now, my brain can only handle one class, and I can't work on school for more than maybe a half-hour to an hour at a time. I had to quit my job after just a few months, and there are weeks I only leave the house for doctors' appointments. I'm not saying you can't be annoyed with your homework load, frustrated with a coworker, or feel a little lonely one night. I just wish you could understand how those complaints come across to those of us who face inability, weakness, pain, fatigue, and isolation beyond what you have ever known.
Imagine with me that you're suddenly paralyzed from the waist down. You're trying to grapple with your "new life," and someone comes along and starts complaining to you about how some "jerk" took their parking space at the grocery store, and they had to walk an extra three hundred yards to get inside. Would that bother you? Maybe you'd be able to feel more compassion than others, but my guess is you'd still be at least slightly frustrated. You'd gladly walk an extra three hundred yards if it meant you got to walk again.
Now imagine someone told you that because that interaction bothered you, you're being too sensitive and you should just be grateful you can use your hands and not worry about the other setbacks in your life. There's some validity to what they're saying: there is always something to be grateful for. But that doesn't mean you can't still grieve what you've lost, and that grief certainly doesn't mean you're being "too sensitive."
Imagine you dealt with interactions such as the above every day of your life. Those of us with chronic illnesses do.
I'm not asking that the world cater to our every physical, mental, and emotional need. I know there are times I do just want to be treated like a "normal" person. I don't want you to constantly worry about what you're saying to us, and I don't want you to feel offended by our frustration. But I don't think it's too much to ask for you to be sensitive sometimes to what you're saying to us. Your words can cut deeper than you could imagine, so please, keep our lives in perspective when talking to us about your situations.