Recently I decided to start posting more on my Instagram in order to try and gain awareness about this blog. It’s not for the ego reasons of “more likes and followers”, but it’s because every few weeks or so I am reached out to and either asked a question or just to say “thank you”. I started this blog as a therapy for myself, but it slowly started becoming not only an outlet for me, but also a way for others out there to know that they are not alone. The best compliments I have ever received are from people who have read something on my blog and said, “Thank you, this helped me so much.”
What I began noticing as well though is that with the increase amount of posts, came the increase amount of friends “unfollowing” me. Which is hilarious. There could be over a thousand reasons why they chose to not want to know about my life anymore, but I always seem to think the same thing. I start thinking in my head that they must be mad and say, “Who is this bitch that has been off work for three years and is just travelling the world, while I am stuck behind my desk. She looks perfectly fine to me, maybe ever better, but yet continues to play the sick card.”
I get it. In the fabricated world of social media I do look well and fine. The fact of the matter is, I’m not. Every therapist I have says I am not. My scans showing I still have tumours say I am not. My team of surgeons say I’m not. But the public eye who only see 1% of my daily life apparently have the most expert opinion. Maybe it’s my own fault. Maybe I should have posted the photo of me on the back of the boat at the Great Barrier Reef having a melt down because I didn’t have the strength or lung power to swim as far as the others were. Maybe I should have posted a photo of me feeling sick and crying by myself at the Easter Show because I was having an anxiety attack. Maybe I should have posted a photo of the pain I was in after surfing because my abs have not been even slightly used in over 3 years. Would those photos have made these people feel better?
I don’t know why I feel the need to have to constantly prove to others that I actually am sick. Even though no one has blatantly said it to my face, I can feel the judgemental looks or snide comments. I don’t know why I give a fuck. I know, and my close circle knows the truth. Isn’t that all that should matter? Well yes, of course. I guess it’s easier said than done.
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I share a lot of my life through Instagram – I welcome you to join it with me! Find me @jamie_phelps ✌️