Locked inside along with our private hurts from comments made from people who do not understand the daily life of someone living with chronic pain, and nestled next to the child inside of us who longs for a hug and to be told that everything is going to, someday, be ok, sits the pain that bore us into the world filled with comments in the first place. We often to have to mask the pain as we go about our daily tasks of work, taking care of families, running errands and juggling the myriad appointments to go to the doctor, pharmacy and perhaps to simply have a massage. IC patients can be young and outward appearances might appear to be quite healthy and vibrant.
We are the sufferers of hidden pain in a world that needs to see the battle scars of pain in order to better understand our suffering. So many times I wished that I could pluck out my scarred bladder and show them how painful it became when it filled with urine or if I ate a food that caused a sensation of an acid wash to overcome my bladder and vaginal area. To unmask myself even further and show the most sacred of places which scream with pain with the slightest of touches. How to demonstrate to the world the emotional scarring that occurs from suddenly finding oneself unable to be sexually active due to instant and searing pain? If IC patients don't appear sick it is because we have learned to wear the mask that society demands from those of us in pain but without external scarring to prove it. I unmask myself each week in the blog and although I am sometimes left raw and naked I feel it is my duty to un-hide what millions of people have to hide every day. The truth of IC is in both the hidden and the unhidden pain.