top of page

The Chronic Illness Paradox

By Antonia @ Unremarkable Me | Published June 2025

I’ve had more experience justifying my mascara than some people have explaining their taxes. Because if you’re chronically ill and dare to look presentable? That’s apparently suspicious.

"You look well!" they say cheerfully — as if the glow of mascara and a decent hoodie erases the two-hour nap I took just to make it out the front door.

This is the daily dance of contradiction. You’re never just fine. You’re simultaneously pushing through, quietly breaking, fiercely adapting — and being judged for all of it.

Welcome to the chronic illness paradox — a state of living where survival doesn’t follow logic, and yet you’re constantly expected to explain it.


You’re Always Ill, But Not Always Sick

I live with Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (EDS Support UK) and a few of her chronic companions. It’s a connective tissue disorder — which, frustratingly, means it affects nearly every part of the body.

Some days I can walk from one room to another (barely). Some days, I can’t walk at all. But I can also post a selfie. Or laugh with friends. Or show up to something big — just once.

What people don’t see is the aftermath: the swollen joints, the dislocations, the heating pads, the tears. Because we live in a culture that equates illness with visibility — and chronic illness doesn’t play by those rules.

Chronic illness isn’t a one-act play. It’s a never-ending improv show — and most of it happens backstage.

For more on how connective tissue disorders present invisibly, check out the NHS EDS overview.


You Need Rest to Function… But Functioning Costs You Rest

Here’s a special kind of logic trap: to live, you must do things. But to survive, you must do less.

It’s the cruel art of strategic participation. A birthday meal might mean three days of prep, a day of pretending, and four days of recovery.

But when I rest? I’m "giving in." When I show up? I must be "getting better." Either way, I lose.

This dynamic is often misunderstood — especially in disability assessments. For insight, read this breakdown from Disability Rights UK


You Must Advocate… While Too Exhausted to Fight

Ask any chronically ill person what their full-time job is, and the answer won’t be their profession — it’s fighting the system.

Appointments. Appeals. Paperwork. Explaining your condition to specialists who should know better.

We become experts out of necessity. But advocacy takes energy. And sometimes, we don’t have enough spoons to play both doctor and patient in the same week.

If we fight, we’re labelled difficult. If we don’t fight, we’re labelled passive. And if we win? That’s often when they stop listening.

You Mask to Cope… Then Get Accused When You Don’t

We smile. We say we’re fine. We hide the limp, the pain, the nausea — because it’s easier than dealing with the fallout of honesty.

But masking becomes a trap. It convinces others we’re not struggling. And when the mask slips — even slightly — the doubt kicks in:

"Are you sure it’s that bad?""Maybe it’s stress?""But you were fine last week."

The burden of proof is always on us. And chronic illness doesn’t offer receipts.

For more on masking and invisible disabilities, visit Hidden Disabilities Sunflower.


Your Productivity Is Penalised Either Way

We live in a society that still ties worth to output. Titles. Hours worked. Hustle.

But chronic illness disrupts all of that. It forces you to move in rhythms the world doesn’t understand.

You can’t measure productivity in traditional terms when your day includes navigating fatigue, managing flare-ups, or just staying upright long enough to make a sandwich.

People think we’ve opted out. They don’t see we were pushed. And the system doesn’t bend to help us climb back in.

For insights on chronic illness and employment, Scope has excellent resources.


Your Mental Health Suffers… Then Gets Used Against You

Living with a body that betrays you, doctors who gaslight you, and a system that forgets you takes a mental toll. Of course it does.

But here’s the twist: the moment you admit you’re struggling mentally, it can become the very thing used to discredit your physical reality.

"I think this is more psychological," they say, usually after skimming your notes and ignoring your scans.

Mental health matters — but it shouldn’t become a scapegoat. It should be supported alongside your diagnosis, not used as a diversion.

Mind UK has a fantastic resource on managing mental health with long-term conditions.


Final Thoughts: Living the Paradox (And Still Living Well)

The chronic illness paradox is exhausting. But it’s also… revealing.

It teaches you what strength really is. Not in big, cinematic moments — but in the quiet ones. The ones no one claps for.

You learn to find joy in short moments. You learn to grieve while laughing. You learn that love doesn’t always look like a romantic gesture — sometimes it’s someone steadying your arm in a car park.

And if you’ve found a way to live inside all this contradiction and still be you?That’s not just resilience. That’s artistry.

You don’t owe anyone proof that you’re struggling. Or thriving. You just owe yourself honesty, grace — and maybe a decent nap.

If this article resonated with you, share it. Talk about it. Or just know: someone else gets it. And that someone is probably also wearing a hoodie and pretending they didn’t cry before lunch.


Further Support & Reading:

Love,Unremarkable Me — where the invisible doesn’t mean insignificant.


 
 
 

Comments

© 2025  Unremarkable Me

bottom of page