You never know what people are going through.

Have you ever lost your patience, maybe while the person driving in front of you can’t decide which way to turn, or in a line as someone fumbles for their wallet and change, or can’t decide what to order?

I know I have. Then I think that they may be going through something that I am unaware of. A recent death, job loss, trauma or physical condition that may affect day-to-day activities.

Maybe someone is speeding because they are on the way to see someone at the ER. Maybe they’re not paying attention in line because they are thinking about the fact that they were called into their child’s school for misbehavior for the umpteenth time. Maybe physical tasks are challenging.

I clearly recall my sisters and I being at the liquor store during Shiva — the Jewish tradition of friends and family coming to the home for a week following the funeral — for my father.

We were at the liquor store to get out of the house and provide drinks for visitors. All three of us seemed to be in a daze, and by the time we got to the register, we were stumped with how to pay, the process, not the money. We mentioned to the cashier that we had just lost our father so please be patient as we figure this simple task out.

She kindly responded that she understood as she had recently lost her mother and sister in a car accident. Sadly, her tragedy bonded us.

There are times when people may be slower at performing seemingly simple tasks. What we might not know is that they are struggling with a physical condition that makes this difficult.

There are so many “unseen” physical conditions that we may not have heard of, much less are able to understand and recognize. Autoimmune diseases can’t be seen. Nor can traumatic brain injuries (TBI), chronic regional pain syndrome (CRIPS), which I have, fibromyalgia (me, too) or Charcot-Marie-Tooth disorder, a degenerative nerve disease that damages the arms and legs. We can’t “see” multiple sclerosis, migraines, cancer, and the list goes on.

Often people with chronic pain can only do a certain amount of tasks before pain and exhaustion set in. When we can’t see that pain, we are likely to misunderstand or minimize it.

“But you just mowed the lawn.” Yes I’ve heard this. There’s only so much I can do before I am worn out to exhaustion. However, people can’t see my “limitations/condition“ so make light of my symptoms or put me down.

Many conditions cause “brain fog,” exactly what it sounds like.

It’s frustrating to need to explain my situation. Nor do I always want to. I don’t want sympathy, just understanding.

My friend with MS and I talk about how much we love being active. Yet sometimes just cleaning the house or taking a shower can be a daunting task. Grocery shopping can feel overwhelming. Day-to-day tasks can be challenging. Once we’re done with them, the energy is sapped.

I was talking to a coworker who stated that he was at the doctor for pain in his jaw for a disease called trigeminal neuralgia. He explained that the pain is so intense that people have committed suicide from it. Strangely, two days later, I was talking to someone else who had the same diagnosis. We never know.

We can’t always visibly see what a person may be dealing with. We can still be kind, patient and gentle with every one, not only those who may be struggling, and with ourselves.