amber rahim

Chronic illness: the parts we don't talk about

Invisible Scars


A year ago today I got the message.

Alone in my bed, late at night, crying in devastation at the loss. My mind and heart shying away from the awful truth, not wanting to accept it.

My brother-in-law found my nephew, his 17 year old son, hanging from a tree in their back garden.

I still can’t think of it without crying: that you were in so much pain, so taken by this terrible illness.

You have been irrevocably changed, unable to talk, unable to do so many things.

And we have all been changed too. Something inside of us has broken and will never get fixed. Not because of what you did, but because of your pain.

We may get on with our lives, laugh, make plans for the future, but this will always be there: that cut deep into our heart and soul. We miss you.



If you are affected by this in anyway, talk to someone. Tell them your reaction to this story, share your feelings, your thoughts.

2 thoughts on “Invisible Scars

  1. Amber, utterly beautiful. Thank you so very much for sharing. Sadly, many lives are lost when those suffering from an invisible or chronic illness are forced to face their disease. I am a strong proponent for genetic testing for this very reason! So beautiful. Thank you for your words of inspiration, as always.

    • thank you Cara. Depression is a terrible disease, and so misunderstood.
      When people say “its all in your head” they think that means it’s not a problem. But that’s the point, it IS in your head and you can’t get it out. It’s not like a tumour or cancer that you can out and destroy. It’s invisible, intangible, a ghost.

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