From
The GuardianI’ve been told off for using disabled services as I ‘don’t look ill’. People with hidden illnesses need understanding and support
I was recently on a packed Central line train into London. Luckily, I managed to take the last priority disabled seat. My osteoporosis and the fatigue I experience meant it would be hard for me to stand for the 40-minute journey to Oxford Circus. I felt a sense of relief that I had managed to find a space. That was until I was approached by a middle-aged woman, who quite confidently asked me to move in order to give up my seat for an elderly passenger.
Of course, I thought, the elderly passenger deserves a seat. But I do too, although it’s not immediately obvious why. With other passengers shaking their heads and murmuring comments of disapproval, and me too embarrassed to make a claim for the seat, I moved. It’s true that I appear well, but standing for a prolonged period of time left me feeling weak and in pain. That said, I am used to keeping quiet.
Invisible illnesses come in many different forms, from arthritis to ME and Crohn’s disease. They present themselves with varying degrees of severity and a wide range of symptoms, including chronic pain, weakness and mental health problems. Despite being a constant presence in our lives, they are not obvious to the onlooker.
A very real problem and one I can understand from various angles. Where a train is busy, who knows whether a person occupying a priority seat is a "priority case" which needs the seat, or not? Seats, surely, should not be left empty because there happen to be no "priority cases" travelling when the rest of the service is full and standing, and where an "invisible illness" person gets on and can't find a seat, just how do they get a seat without asking someone in the priority section if they mind ... thus challenging that already - seated person as to their disability. Case of "friends fire".
