I don’t normally write blog posts back to back or this close to each other, but this topic is important because it affects hundreds, maybe even thousands of people who suffer from life-threatening diseases like rheumatoid arthritis (RA).

The name "burden" says it all. A friend of mine, whose daughter is struggling with RA, recently asked me, “When you had RA really bad, was there ever a point where you felt like you were a burden on everyone around you?”

I was nearly brought to tears by her question. Not only is it a sensitive and emotional topic for me, but it was heartbreaking to know that both her daughter and her mother are dealing with this weight on their shoulders. I have a soft spot for those suffering from RA, as well as for those who care for someone with the condition. I wouldn't wish this struggle on anyone—except perhaps my enemies, the ones who criticize and judge me.

This poor mother is doing everything she can to help her daughter understand that she is not a burden. When I had RA severely, I did feel like a burden. I thought I was putting everyone around me through a living hell. I was a grown man at about 23 years old, barely able to walk or lift groceries into the car. I couldn’t do much physical work while others assisted me and did everything for me. This feeling is common among those suffering from RA; you constantly feel judged and criticized for things you simply cannot do.

I’ve had people tell me I was just lazy or that I used my condition as an excuse to avoid work. Some even got upset with me at work for not being able to help lift a bag of dog food into a cart. 

During the time when my RA was at its worst, my wife was pregnant. She suffered from relentless morning sickness and continued to work full-time throughout her pregnancy until she gave birth. She took care of many things around the house because I couldn’t. So yes, I did feel like a burden—especially to her. It was incredibly hard for me to watch her and others work so hard on my behalf while I sat there feeling helpless.

Friends and family often told me I wasn’t a burden and that they loved helping me because they understood my limitations. But there was nothing anyone could say that would make me believe or feel otherwise. The evidence was right in front of me; how could they say I wasn’t a burden when everything around me seemed to prove that I was? My wife worked full time and didn’t want to take maternity leave, which I felt was my fault because I was unable to support her. I couldn’t help a woman at work load dog food into her cart, and that felt like my failure as well.

This is all in the past, and I no longer feel this way. But at that time, I felt terrible, as if I were stressing everyone out and making their lives more difficult. No matter what anyone said, I couldn’t convince myself otherwise.

For someone struggling with rheumatoid arthritis (RA), it can be incredibly difficult to accept the fact that they are not a burden. Many, including myself at times, prefer to be alone, believing they will be better off by themselves rather than feeling like a burden to others. They often feel as though they have already caused enough damage and don't want to impose further on those around them. In my experience, being alone became an enemy I didn't fully recognize at the time. Left alone with my thoughts, I often found myself spiraling into reflections on my pain, sorrow, frustration, and the criticisms of others. This led to increased stress and ultimately caused me to fall into a depression.

I remember a time when I wrote letters to my family—my wife and kids—apologizing for being a burden. I expressed my sorrow for making them do everything for me when I felt unable to contribute. At that moment, I genuinely believed my life was over, and I felt the need to convey these feelings to my loved ones.

I felt if there's anything I could do right and not be a burden to everyone back then, it was me apologizing for the lack of my own help and support to them. I wanted to escape the emotional and physical pain that I was living with and no longer wanted to be a burden on anyone. 

The answer to my friend's question, as emotionally difficult as it was for her to hear, is yes—I felt like a burden. I felt like the scum of the Earth. I believed everything people said about me was true: that I was lazy, a waste of their time, and all the other negative things they expressed to me almost daily.

I don’t intend for this blog post to be entirely sad or depressing, so let’s fast forward to today, 20 years later. I am in remission and have found happiness. Those letters never reached my family, and I have since discovered a way to escape the hell I was living in. I achieved this by accepting that I wasn’t a burden and through the love and support of my family and friends.

I came to realize that I wasn’t truly a burden back then. While a part of me still feels guilty for putting my wife, family, and friends through so much hardship, I need to stress that it wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t my fault that I drew a difficult hand in life or had to endure pain and inflammation for over 20 years. I didn’t ask for rheumatoid arthritis; I didn’t want it, but it was my reality. I had to learn to live with it. Accepting this was crucial for my survival. To truly live, I needed to shift my perspective and make some tough decisions that would ultimately benefit me.

My friends and family were my lifeline during that challenging time. They lifted my spirits, made me feel accepted, and reminded me that they cared. Their love and encouragement helped distract me from my ongoing pain. If it hadn’t been for my acceptance of their support and care, I might not have found a way out. I might not be in remission today, or even alive.

If you or someone you know is going through a tough time and feels like a burden, my advice is to reassure them that you are there for them. Let them know you are available if they ever need comfort or support. Communicate your love and commitment to being there for them. Give them the space they need to process their feelings on their terms; don’t try to force decisions on them. 

Love and care can have a profound impact and are a great blessing to those suffering from serious challenges in life or health.

As for me, I want you to know that I am here for you. This is my commitment: if you ever need help, support, or someone to listen to you, I’m here. I understand what it's like to be lost in your own thoughts, to feel scared, and to worry about being a burden. Thank you to everyone who has given me that same love, support, and care—I wouldn’t have made it through without you. Thank you!