Comments on: Who hates to hear they look great?

By: kay

kay — Wed, 06 Jan 2010 02:37:11 +0000

I have Ehlers Danlos syndrome and a million and one complications from it,and You are all correct. All i ever here is how beautiful i look, and i cant eat because of chronic nausea,
My brain stem is elongated, tethered cord,always dizzy and it feels like i am being ripped apart, Everything dislocates.i have lost my job, the ability to legally marry, have a career or have children and i am in agonizing pain and dependent on doctors pharmacists and people who arent me for the rest of my life. I once danced, ran, and was an equestrian now it’s pretty much the sofa for me
Ah yes this is the good life. Who would chose this? i am 33 not 98.
My other HATED comment is “You are too young to be in pain” Sorry, i never realised there was an age requirement.

Best of luck to all, and my true empathy for your frustration.

p.s. LeeLee i wish i had your doctor i still cant find anyone who knows EDS in the finger lakes region of NY.

Cheers, K

By: Dena

Dena — Wed, 09 Dec 2009 15:58:52 +0000

I think it’s always best to give specific compliments regardless. If you have great glasses, if I love the curl in your hair, if you have a sweet smile or beautiful hands – those are better in so many ways. First, we’re conditioned to doubt compliments and believe insults, and the more specific, the harder to brush off. Second, a compliment is a judgment, though a positively intended one, and you never know how the flip side of the compliment will affect someone. I mean, even complimenting the curl in your hair – what if you hate the curl and the curl represents the shoulder pain that won’t allow you to blow dry it straight. Urg. But the more specific, the less likely to go wrong, in my experience.

By: Shiyiya

Shiyiya — Wed, 09 Dec 2009 05:05:51 +0000

I get this type of thing from my dad all the time. Fuck is it ever frustrating. Yes daddy I know most people my age are in school or out finding jobs. I know you think I’m just a lazy git lying in bed in my room on the computer all day. There’s no obvious *reason* why I can’t so much as fix something to eat most days, so obviously I’m perfectly fine. And any problem I might articulate just gets “oh I blah blah too but I suck it up and do stuff anyway”. I HATE the american meme of just pull yourself up by your bootstraps. I suppose making yourself more miserable is virtuous?

I almost wish the birth control pills *hadn’t* helped the stabbing screaming pain every month so I’d have something that might be recognized as a valid excuse. “I can’t walk for very long without losing track of which way is up” is pretty fucking invisible.

(Sorry, I’m extra ragey right now because I went grocery shopping with my dad earlier and he found no less than five excuses to tell me I needed to get out of my bedroom and get a job. Fuck.)

By: Rigby

Rigby — Tue, 08 Dec 2009 21:44:42 +0000

Ugh, I hate this so much. I’ve gotten it a lot this semester, as a bunch of my friends haven’t seen me more than once a month and always- always!- the first comment out of their mouth is “you look great!” There really just don’t realize they’re seeing me on my best of best days, not on the days when I’m curled up in my room not able to move from a combination of my pain and depression. They just don’t realize it’s all acting.

By: Kaitlyn

Kaitlyn — Tue, 08 Dec 2009 16:54:31 +0000

My dad didn’t say this to me, he said it to my mom or sister, and they naturally told me.

I was in the hospital for 5 days, because that’s how long it took to find a freakin’ urologist who wasn’t a hack that took my insurance. I did have some fun – I was 17-about-to-be-18 on the almost empty kid’s hall, so I was doted on. I didn’t spend the whole time crying and screaming in pain.

My dad visited (my relationship with him is similar to my illness – ups and downs. We were on speaking terms) almost every day, bringing me the paper. According to him, that was the “best I’d ever looked!” I’m doped up, in pain, in the hospital, but I look great!

Before I went in the hospital (I went in Friday – we went to the ER and they admitted me), my hack urologist put a stent in. Wrong. So wrong it was falling out (along with everything in my kidney onto the couch while I slept!) by Friday. (Put in Wednesday.) When I woke up after the procedure, well, the pain medication didn’t work. I was writhing. He told me, “I have pain. She (the nurse) has pain. Your mom has pain. We deal with it.” (So shut up.)

What hurts the most is my mom. She’s learning along with me, and she keeps going back and forth on what I “should” do. She’s said, “You look great!” many times. “I don’t feel great.” “Oh.”

And she’s now on me about exercising. It HURTS. I’m sorry you’re sick of me being on the couch, being “lazy.”

No one ever said anything insensitive when my skin was infected. I wish all my pain had external, easy to understand signs. Then I’d never doubt myself, and neither would anyone else.

By: debbie

debbie — Wed, 14 Oct 2009 22:46:14 +0000

For me, the absolute worst was having a medical professional congratulate me on losing weight. He was pretty shocked when I angrily pointed out to him that I had lost a lot of weight because he had failed so miserably in his attempts to help me manage my illness. My ensuing rant about what a sexist asshole he was ended that “therapeutic” relationship pretty quickly.

By: LeeLee

LeeLee — Wed, 14 Oct 2009 14:24:17 +0000

I have Ehlers-Danlos, which is only visible if I show my “tricks.” At one appointment, my physical medicine doctor said to me “You look great today. Let me guess – you feel like hell.” I could have kissed him. He got it – if I took the extra effort to put on a nice outfit, fix my hair, do makeup, etc., chances are that I was attempting to “fake it ’til I make it.” Sometimes it helps. If I look pretty good, I’ll at least be in a better mood, and can function for a short time while out and about.

On those rare days when I wake up feeling OK, I don’t usually bother with hair and makeup, because I don’t want to waste the time. I don’t know how long I have until something goes haywire.

Normally I don’t mind having an invisible disability, or perhaps I should say I don’t wish it were more obvious, except when I’m on the Metro. I simply cannot stand on it. My balance is poor and because my shoulders are so loose, I cannot hold on without dislocating them. So I get the stink eye from people who think I should give up my seat.

By: Lexin

Lexin — Wed, 14 Oct 2009 12:56:05 +0000

Oh, yes, I recognise this! “You’re looking good today on days when I can barealy speak for depression. And I get the ‘And you cope with it so well’ from people who have no idea how close I’ve come to the “Mad person o nthe street corner talking to themselves”.

By: Tlönista

Tlönista — Wed, 14 Oct 2009 00:17:24 +0000

And what am I supposed to say?
‘Actually I’m one step above cowering in a corner today so I’m out having a crack at enjoying myself?’

Yes! That’s what I always want to say. It’s so irritating to put on a façade and then get praised for it.

(Of course, if I’m in a state to put on a façade in the first place, I’m already ahead of the game…)
.-= Tlönista´s last blog ..Mixie Pride, One Day At a Time =-.

By: Renee

Renee — Tue, 13 Oct 2009 14:05:00 +0000

I just want to say thank you for this. It is not often I see myself reflected and the tears of relief that I cried mean the world to me. It is so isolating and so many think that you can just push through it and that is not the case at all. I had someone comment to me this weekend how lucky I was to use a scooter. It took everything in me not to scream at the woman. I am sure she would not want to trade for even one day and yet somehow I was the lucky one. The pain with fibro is unbearable some days...there is nothing lucky or wonderful about it. .-= Renee´s last blog ..Zahara Jolie-Pitt Ask Your Mama To Buy A Comb =-.