It is always interesting to see how people respond when I tell them about my condition. Oftentimes, it begins with a flash of understanding. "Oh! So that's why you always complain of feeling tired and leave events early (or don't show up at all)..." That small flash is then usually replaced with a very singular look which is something like a mixture of pity, concern, and confusion. I have come to interpret this look to mean something like, "Wow, that sounds really sad, but I have no idea how to relate to you anymore." It is the look that says the person wishes they knew precisely what to say and tries to find a way to connect their now jumbled thoughts with the unexpected fact they just learned. From there, each person's response will difer, depending on their own experiences, but the process always seems to begin with that look. It is a lot like the look that church people often have when I tell them my parents are divorced, or that single people get when they learn I am married (yes, I am stereotyping)--the look of "I really want to feel something for you but I'm not sure what because I've never been where you've been." I don't mind this look at all, please don't think I am offended by it, but it intrigues me.

It amuses me to see how much, despite this look, most people inevitably try to relate my situation to their own life, and then seem to immediately regret it. I can't help but smile when I think how many times I have heard,"not that this in any way compares to what you are going through, but. . ." or something to that effect. However, I think most people would be surprised if they knew what goes through my head at that moment. Please, do think that my life reminds you a little of yours. I hope that your struggles are different than mine, but don't assume that means mine are more grievous or more worthy of attention. For one thing, it is a blessing to me to know that I am not alone, and to toil alongside the rest of the human race. Perhaps misery just loves company, but I prefer to think that when we can acknowledge our issues together they begin to seem far less severe. When I am lying in bed on a sleepless night, it is such a comfort to remember that there are others who may be lying awake too. Just because your insomnia is stress-induced and mine is a hormone imbalance doesn't make one any better or worse than the other.

And that is what strikes me most strongly at those moments when people start feeling like they have somehow diminished my situation by relating it to theirs. Sure, it may not be the same, or even on the same plane, but I do believe there is a sort of cosmic balance in the types of struggles we each face. I often like to say that we each have our own cross to bear, and for me that is not a platitude that helps me brush off your pity, I really believe it. Mine might look heavier, but if it is it is only making me stronger. If your biggest problem is that you didn't sleep very well last night either then frankly I pity you, probably more than you pity me, for that means you have never had the opportunities to grow that I face every day. But I think it highly unlikely that that is the case. I think in reality if you were to open up about the biggest, most difficult struggle you are dealing with right now, mine would likely pale in comparison. The only thing that makes me different is that I am forced, or at least constantly invited, to air out my deepest pain on a regular basis. The practical implications of an illness are more difficult to hide, and so I learn to share my burden.

I just want to send this tiny consolation out into the world. It's okay that you don't really understand. I'm glad you feel like you can't relate. But I'm also glad for the ways you feel like you can. I would love to share in your sympathy and then return it, for I know your life is a struggle just like mine is. My prayer is that the sharing in it together will make both of us stronger in the end. When we can acknowledge that we both feel pain, fear, and anger then we can rejoice in the ways we feel comfort, restoration, hopefulness, and peace.

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.
-2 Corinthians 1:3-4

Cross references:

1. 2 Corinthians 1:2 : Rom 1:7
2. 2 Corinthians 1:3 : Eph 1:3; 1 Pet 1:3
3. 2 Corinthians 1:3 : Rom 15:6
4. 2 Corinthians 1:3 : Rom 15:5
5. 2 Corinthians 1:4 : Isa 51:12; 66:13