I may not be an expert, but I know some things when it comes to dealing with the overwhelming nature of illnesses that go unseen but not unfelt. Invisible illnesses hit you when you least expect them, and they hurt you where they knows you hurt the most. There will never be a simple, one trip fix for these things. There is a blinking and unending row of buttons that set off blaring alarms and crippling lights in the eyes of those who see the world in shades of red and strips of caution tape instead of black and white. There is little I, one small person among the world of sufferers and educators and doctors, can do to take the tape down and cover up the buttons, but there is experience I can share and lessons I can teach to those who seek them.

If you ever look around at the once familiar surroundings, and you suddenly find yourself trying to make it up some claustrophobic creek without a paddle to make your sinking vessel venture on, I urge you to jump ship. I urge you to leave behind the place that has you wrapped up in the meat-seeking claws of the monster called illness; I want you to retreat to the closest quiet corner or distant den that seems safe from what ails you. You need to leave the rapids and sharp peaks of anxiety and panic behind to seek that which you hope to find again, that sense of peace and solidarity with the world within. Don't stay in the creek hoping that you'll simply find a substitute for the paddle or push your way upstream because there is no way to undermine the unseen monster inside your very being. I urge you once more, go to the places where the creek doesn't flow; go to the places the rushing water of your fears are merely a whisper in the wandering winds instead of the roaring and crashing it is that you now hear.

When you are soaked but away, find that which can take your mind away. Look for the birds in the tree branches, and wonder if they wish to walk and run. Look to the whispering leaves, and listen to decipher if they speak of love. Play the soothing sounds of a childhood memory that’s almost slipped past your sight. Listen to the voice of a loved one as they call out to you any day or any night. Rest your eyes on the face of new life in the world, no matter what creature you may love. Immerse yourself in another person's tale, and turn tormented time into a retelling of the words that never fail. There's something your heart wants to see, or maybe something it wants to hear, but it's there, and it’s the most precious thing to you. Bring that one thought, that one moment of peace, to the place where you have hidden from the horrors of hidden enemies, and let it heal you; let it calm you the way it does when you were younger or when the time was different.

Take your time. You are a creature made of pure strength and an unmeasurable will to make it through. There is no one in the whole world but you who can rush you to recover from the throws of those who seek to harm, and you are not to do that to yourself. Healing the hurt you cannot see takes time you cannot count out on a clock as if you were a cake in the oven; this will take as long as you need, and it will take much longer if your fight it or rush the time along. Baby steps are the key to making it out of the raging creek and to safety when you are up the creek with no paddle. Baby steps are also the key to making it through the terrain and back to civilization and familiar surroundings when you leave the safe place behind. If you stayed in the hidden hollow forever, you would be technically safe, but you would never make it to who you wish to be. In order to maybe one day become better and get past the menace of many an illness, you have to take tiny steps toward the rest of humanity and leave behind your sense of safety. Instead, you take with you a safe haven inside of you; you take peace knowing you can make it through the struggle to come not because you have conquered the creek and fought the wild wilderness.

There is one last thing to remember. If you are in the creek or seeking safety, don't leave behind those who are struggling but are stuck in the cycling waters of the creek. Yes, illness is individual, but that does not mean that those who suffer do it alone and refuse to help anyone else who might be hurting, too. The creed we live by as we fight the waters and wilds of the world is no man left behind. Where would we be if there had never been someone to help us when we most needed it? What if there was no one we could reach out to in the world? We would be in the creek trying to turn sticks into paddles to forge a path upstream. In this group, and in this community of suffering soldiers, there is no man who will be left behind by me. There is no man who will be left behind, not by any soldier in the war against invisible illnesses. This is not an every man for himself fight, this is an everyone has the right to live a good life fight. Fight valiantly and fight endlessly.