The Invisible Kingdom: Reimagining Chronic Illness

by Meghan O'Rourke

The next day, I began deleting my writing files. I went online to my financial accounts and checked that I had labeled beneficiaries for each. I sat with my computer and went through file by file, deleting spare files, then went to the cabinet where my journals were kept. I hesitated, then piled them on a corner of the office shelving to bring out later with the garbage. It is hard to write about this time, but it would also be false to suggest that my illness had not at this point—two and half years into feeling that I had the flu every single day—led to despair about whether I could go on, without at least the prospect of my suffering being seen. For those weeks, I felt the depression at one’s state that many chronically ill people confront at some point in their illness. (Research suggests that roughly one third of people with a serious medical condition experience symptoms of depression.) In no way do I think, or want to suggest, that depression was the root cause of my symptoms or my illness. Rather, in retrospect it is painfully clear that the invisibility of my illness was one of the most challenging parts of my suffering, wearing my resilience down over time. I have always been a social person who thrives on deep connection with others. Like many type-A personalities, I was willing to work extremely hard, and accommodate myself to a great deal of pain, if a doctor just told me what to do and expect, or if I knew that my illness was being meaningfully researched. Bu...