🎧Episode #6 - Silent Struggles at Work: Coping With Brain Tumor Symptoms No One Could See

🎧Listen To The Episode🎧 Spotify

 

🎧Listen To The Episode🎧 Apple Podcasts

 

Carrying a Battle No One Knew About

There are moments in life when the hardest fights take place behind the scenes. No loud alarms. No visible wounds. No obvious signs that something is wrong. Just a quiet internal storm that grows heavier with each passing day. This chapter of my journey with a brain tumor was not defined by doctor visits or MRI scans. It was defined by the long workdays, during which I tried to hold myself together while everything inside me was slowly falling apart. I had a full-time job, responsibilities, deadlines, and expectations that did not pause simply because fear had taken up space in my mind. On the outside, life looked normal. On the inside, everything was shifting.

 

When Life Refuses To Slow Down

One of the most surprising parts of hearing the words “you have a brain tumor” is that the world does not stop for you. Your heart stops. Your thoughts stop. Your sense of security stops. But life keeps going at the same speed it always has. My job still needed me. Meetings still needed me. People still expected the same version of me they had always known. I woke up each morning carrying dizziness, tension, fear, and exhaustion that could not be seen by anyone standing in front of me. But I had to push through anyway. Bills do not disappear. Responsibilities do not shrink. And even though I was not ready to share my diagnosis, I still had to show up with the same level of professionalism and commitment as before. That pressure alone can drain you emotionally long before the physical symptoms even start.

 

The Symptoms That Followed Me Into Work

The symptoms became part of my routine. The dizziness that made me pause before getting out of my car. The headaches that felt like invisible pressure sitting right behind my eyes. The moments where conversations felt harder to follow because my mind was trying to juggle fear while staying focused. Some days I worked slower, not because I lacked effort, but because I was trying to keep myself calm. Other days I found myself counting breaths to steady my nerves. And on the toughest days, I fought back thoughts that tried to spiral into anxiety. I tried to keep conversations short because I did not want anyone to notice the strain on my face. I avoided long discussions because I was afraid my symptoms would show. I paced myself at a speed no one else could see. Every action took extra energy. Every smile cost a little more.

 

Trying To Stay Normal In A Life That Was Not Normal Anymore

There is an emotional conflict in wanting to appear normal while knowing you are not. You feel like two versions of yourself at once. There is the public version, the one who tries to stay upbeat, professional, and focused. And then there is the private version, the one dealing with fear, worry, and physical symptoms that refuse to cooperate. That contradiction became my daily reality. I would walk into the building determined to be the version of myself that everyone expected. But inside, I was navigating a silent storm. Trying to look calm while managing symptoms. Trying to stay productive while dealing with fear. Trying to stay confident while my mind battled uncertainty. I became skilled at hiding discomfort. Skilled at masking fear. Skilled at pretending everything was okay even when it was not.

 

The Pain Of Being Misunderstood When You Stay Silent

When you remain silent about what you are going through, misunderstandings are guaranteed. People noticed that I was not talking as much. They noticed I was quieter in meetings. They noticed I was not as social or outgoing. And because they did not know the truth, they made their own assumptions. Some thought I was distracted. Some thought I was overwhelmed by work. Some thought I was pulling away. When people misunderstand your silence, it can cut deeper than the symptoms themselves. Because now you are fighting two battles. You are fighting the internal struggle of your diagnosis. And then you are fighting the external struggle of trying not to let people misjudge your behavior. That emotional exhaustion is hard to describe unless you have lived it. You smile even when the smile feels forced. You reassure people even though you are the one who needs reassurance. You try not to worry anyone even though you are drowning in worry yourself.

 

The Loneliness Of Suffering Quietly

There is a very specific kind of loneliness that comes from suffering quietly while surrounded by people. It is not the loneliness that comes from being physically alone. It is the loneliness that comes from feeling unseen while standing in a crowded room. I remember sitting in my office pretending to work while my brain raced with thoughts I could not say out loud. I remember trying to take deep breaths between tasks because the dizziness made the day feel longer. I remember looking at emails on my screen while the pressure in my head made the words blur slightly. No one in that building knew how hard I was fighting just to function. That kind of loneliness is heavy. It drains you. It makes the days feel longer. And yet, you push through because you feel like you have no other choice.

 

The Internal Battle Between Fear And Faith

During this season, faith became my quiet lifeline. I would walk down the hall whispering short prayers under my breath. I prayed at red lights. I prayed in the bathroom at work. I prayed in the parking lot before going inside. Fear whispered worst-case scenarios. Faith whispered reminders that God had not left me. I lived between those two voices every single day. Some days faith spoke louder. Other days fear tried to take the lead. But through it all, I held onto what I believed, even when my emotions did not match that belief. Those prayers held me together on the days when the symptoms made me feel unsteady. And even though no one else saw that battle, God did.

 

The Lesson From My Grandfather That Carried Me

In the middle of this season, a childhood memory of my grandfather resurfaced. He was a private man, strong and steady, but deeply protective of the people he loved. He taught me something that became the theme of this chapter in my story. He always taught me that while there is strength in keeping some things to yourself, there is also a time to trust the right people with your truth. His quiet wisdom helped shape how I handled this moment in my life. He worked hard, stayed consistent, and kept his personal battles private until the right time. That lesson stayed with me during those long workdays. It reminded me that strength is not hiding everything forever. Strength is knowing when to hold things close and when to let the right people in.

 

What This Season Taught Me About Invisible Strength

This episode is about more than work. It is about invisible weight. It is about the emotional pressure of trying to live normally while dealing with something life changing. It is about the courage it takes to keep going when fear is sitting in your chest. It is about the bravery of showing up to work while carrying symptoms no one can see. And it is about realizing that sometimes strength is not loud. Sometimes strength is quiet. Sometimes strength is holding yourself together long enough to get through the day even when your body is begging you to rest.

 

A Word To Anyone Fighting A Silent Battle

If you are reading this and you have ever carried silent pain, this is for you. If you have ever worked through fear. If you have ever hidden symptoms because you were not ready to share. If you have ever felt misunderstood while fighting something invisible. If you have ever had to push through a day that demanded more than you had to give. Please know that you are not alone. Your silent fight matters. Your hidden strength is real. Your courage counts even when no one sees the battle you are fighting.

 

This Episode Marks A Turning Point

Episode 6 marks the beginning of a shift in my journey. The weight of the symptoms. The pressure of pretending. The emotional fatigue of staying silent. All of this leads into the next two episodes where things intensify and the symptoms become impossible to ignore. This episode is the quiet before the storm. It is the moment just before everything begins to change. And it sets the stage for the moment where silence becomes impossible and truth has to come to the surface.

 

Support The Mission Behind This Story

If this episode touched you or reminded you of your own strength during difficult seasons, you can help support the mission of this podcast. Your support helps me continue to share stories of faith, resilience, and real life. You can visit BuyMeACoffee.com/TeflonJohn to contribute. Every donation helps expand the message and reach more people who need encouragement. Thank you for walking with me through this journey. One love, be blessed.

Next
Next

🎧Episode #5 - Late Night Brain Tumor Searches, Fear, Faith, and Finding Real Support