I Question the Wisdom of Making This a Public Post
In an act of solidarity with queen_lily_rose, and because it's National Invisible Chronic Illness Awareness Week:
Hi. I'm l33. I have invisible chronic illnesses.
Specifically, I have polycystic ovarian syndrome (PCOS), which is a genetic endocrine condition that makes my life difficult in the weight-loss and shitty-hair departments, raises my risk for heart disease and some kinds of cancer (which, fortunately, aren't in my family to begin with) and which impairs fertility in many women, probably including me. Since I am very firmly childfree, this is actually one of the side effects of the disease that doesn't bother me. However, for many women who do want children, it can be devastating. The conventional treatment for PCOS is metformin, an anti-diabetic, and estrogen, usually in the form of the birth-control pill or patch. While I find the metformin helpful, I am of two minds about continuing with the estrogen; I would like to not have shitty hair anymore, and I would like some form of reliable birth control until such time as I'm permanently sterilized, but at the same time, the estrogen makes me feel so horrible psychologically that nothing is worth it. (Also, breast cancer, which is usually an estrogen-fed cancer, is in my family, and stopping the estrogen would decrease the risk, though not eliminate it entirely.)
I also have dysthymia, which is what used to be called "chronic depression" and now isn't, probably because that's not a very cheery diagnosis. It doesn't mean that I can never be happy or that my very existence is gawthycke payyyne or anything like that, but it does mean that when I am depressed, it is not always situational. I was first diagnosed when I was about thirteen, but according to my mother, showed signs of depression as far back as childhood. I don't see a therapist, because in my experience it was basically an excuse to go further up my own ass and I can do that on my own time for free; I also don't believe in antidepressant medication for myself and have never used it. (When I was a teenager, it wasn't commonly known that some antidepressants can increase suicidal ideation and activity in adolescents. Appalled as I was to find that this is the case, and that these studies were not widely known as early as they should have been, I feel somewhat vindicated for never trusting the stuff.) Nonetheless, I've made progress; I dislike myself intensely (on a good day, I can tolerate myself), which is a step up from hating myself. That said, I don't decry anyone who feels that therapy and/or medication is the best route for him or her; you are the best judge of what you need, and at the end of the day, no one else can or should make that decision for you.
Living with these isn't a nipple massage in a field of daisies, but on the whole, both make a very small impact on my life, and I'm fortunate that I don't have it worse. I won't pretend that I'm Suzy Sunshine, since several of you have heard me gripe about the estrogen and natter on when my mood's taken a turn for the worse, but I keep going (largely because it's a machine's nature; I don't really know how to do anything else).
Also, because only ukekenshin can prevent lung fires, or thinks she can: as of the end of August, it was four years since my last cigarette.
Hi. I'm l33. I have invisible chronic illnesses.
Specifically, I have polycystic ovarian syndrome (PCOS), which is a genetic endocrine condition that makes my life difficult in the weight-loss and shitty-hair departments, raises my risk for heart disease and some kinds of cancer (which, fortunately, aren't in my family to begin with) and which impairs fertility in many women, probably including me. Since I am very firmly childfree, this is actually one of the side effects of the disease that doesn't bother me. However, for many women who do want children, it can be devastating. The conventional treatment for PCOS is metformin, an anti-diabetic, and estrogen, usually in the form of the birth-control pill or patch. While I find the metformin helpful, I am of two minds about continuing with the estrogen; I would like to not have shitty hair anymore, and I would like some form of reliable birth control until such time as I'm permanently sterilized, but at the same time, the estrogen makes me feel so horrible psychologically that nothing is worth it. (Also, breast cancer, which is usually an estrogen-fed cancer, is in my family, and stopping the estrogen would decrease the risk, though not eliminate it entirely.)
I also have dysthymia, which is what used to be called "chronic depression" and now isn't, probably because that's not a very cheery diagnosis. It doesn't mean that I can never be happy or that my very existence is gawthycke payyyne or anything like that, but it does mean that when I am depressed, it is not always situational. I was first diagnosed when I was about thirteen, but according to my mother, showed signs of depression as far back as childhood. I don't see a therapist, because in my experience it was basically an excuse to go further up my own ass and I can do that on my own time for free; I also don't believe in antidepressant medication for myself and have never used it. (When I was a teenager, it wasn't commonly known that some antidepressants can increase suicidal ideation and activity in adolescents. Appalled as I was to find that this is the case, and that these studies were not widely known as early as they should have been, I feel somewhat vindicated for never trusting the stuff.) Nonetheless, I've made progress; I dislike myself intensely (on a good day, I can tolerate myself), which is a step up from hating myself. That said, I don't decry anyone who feels that therapy and/or medication is the best route for him or her; you are the best judge of what you need, and at the end of the day, no one else can or should make that decision for you.
Living with these isn't a nipple massage in a field of daisies, but on the whole, both make a very small impact on my life, and I'm fortunate that I don't have it worse. I won't pretend that I'm Suzy Sunshine, since several of you have heard me gripe about the estrogen and natter on when my mood's taken a turn for the worse, but I keep going (largely because it's a machine's nature; I don't really know how to do anything else).
Also, because only ukekenshin can prevent lung fires, or thinks she can: as of the end of August, it was four years since my last cigarette.