“Am I Really That Sick?”: Impostor Syndrome and Chronic Illness
I remember sitting in the first session of orientation for grad school, and hearing a talk on impostor syndrome.
Impostor syndrome often happens in college, when a newly admitted student begins to believe that they are not smart enough to be there, or that they are less worthy than those around them. It’s born of negative comparison, looking at others’ skills and thinking that their own aren’t at the same level.
As it turns out, impostor syndrome is not only prevalent on college campuses. It is found in the workplace, in friend groups, and pretty much anywhere a group of people is gathered for the same reason. The most common denominator of impostor syndrome is silence — individuals think that they are not as good or that they don’t belong, and they say nothing, because they believe they’re the only one.
However, the chronic illness world was not a place I expected to run into impostor syndrome.
There are online support groups for chronic illness (if you’re looking for one, The Mighty is an excellent, supportive, nonjudgmental community with many resources). In all of them, people post about living life with chronic illness to a group of fellow sufferers. We all understand the struggle, and we support each other.
But when I first started looking through the posts, my first feeling was not relief, but guilt.
This person is so much more sick than me — they struggle with things I do easily.
That person has multiple chronic illnesses, and they do so much more than I do. I must not be trying hard enough.
I guess I’m not really that sick, if all these people claim similar illnesses and are so much worse off than me.
It all came down to one question.
Do I belong here?
There it is. Impostor syndrome at its finest.
I have a chronic illness. I am sick all the time. I experience pain, nausea, and exhaustion almost every day. I also have low tolerance for schedule changes, diet changes, or anything changes.
I worry about the future. I worry that I won’t be able to live a full life, or fulfill my dreams, or successfully have a family.
I’m still trying — I haven’t given up. I continue to work through a stream of new ideas, doctors, diets, exercises, and medicines.
Yes, it could be worse. There are many people whose chronic pain is more aggressive, whose symptoms are more severe, and who are much less able to accomplish everyday things than I am. When I look at them, I often forget to feel grateful, and instead feel fake.
I feel that because I’m not as sick, my illness must not be real. It’s all too easy to think that I don’t have the right to call it an illness, because it’s not a life-threatening or visibly debilitating disease.
The feeling that I’m “not sick enough” for chronic illness breeds loneliness. Impostor syndrome thrives in isolation and in silence.
But here’s the vital negation of that impostor syndrome: just because you are not in as much pain as someone else does not mean you are not in pain.
Just because the illness you have — whether it be fibromyalgia, severe asthma, or any other chronic and invisible illness — is not going to kill you, does not mean that it is not life-changing or traumatic.
You might not die from it, but you will probably die with it. That is the most wearying statement to face, especially when you have to face it every day.
No, not everyone will understand. Yes, you will meet people with more pain than you. But that doesn’t mean you have to isolate yourself.
No, you will not be able to do everything you dreamed of, everything you could do when you were healthy. But that doesn’t mean that you won’t have a good life.
No, you will not ever be able to fully understand why this happened to you, why it struck without warning and never went away. But that doesn’t mean that your life will not be beautiful, or completely devoid of joy and wonder.
Do not undersell your illness. Do not negatively compare it to others. Talk about it. Share your story. Don’t let the lies of silence and impostor syndrome isolate you.
