Racing with a Broken Engine: The Struggle of Mental Illness

Life is often compared to a race. Some people hit roadblocks—financial setbacks, failed relationships, career struggles. These obstacles are visible, tangible, and easily understood by others. When someone faces a roadblock, there’s usually advice, support, and a clear path to overcoming it. But what happens when the roadblock is invisible, when the obstacle is not something you can point to and say, "This is why I'm struggling"?

Not all struggles are external. Some people are racing with a broken engine.

The Hidden Battle No One Sees

They may appear to be on the same track as everyone else, moving through life at the same pace, but something inside them isn’t functioning properly. Whether it’s mental health challenges like depression or anxiety, neurodivergence, chronic fatigue, or any condition that makes even the simplest tasks feel overwhelming, they’re working twice as hard just to keep up.

From the outside, they seem fine—they’re running the race. They wake up, go to work, smile when necessary, and check off daily responsibilities. But inside, they’re barely holding it together, trying to keep the engine from sputtering out completely.

It’s exhausting, but it’s also isolating. Unlike a visible injury that others immediately recognize and sympathize with, an internal struggle often goes unnoticed. People assume that if you’re functioning, you must be fine. That assumption couldn’t be further from the truth.

Why Strength Isn’t Always What It Seems

Society often judges struggle based on what’s visible. A person working three jobs is praised for their resilience and grit, while someone quietly battling mental exhaustion or a never-ending fog of anxiety is dismissed as lacking discipline, drive, or motivation. But here’s the question: if both individuals are exerting the same amount of energy—one physically, the other mentally—why is one considered strong and the other weak?

What if the person struggling internally is actually expending even more energy, just to maintain the appearance of normalcy? They might not be achieving grand milestones, but the sheer effort it takes to show up every day is nothing short of remarkable.

Strength doesn’t always look like pushing past external obstacles. Sometimes, strength is just getting out of bed when your mind is screaming at you to stay down. Sometimes, it’s managing to smile even when your thoughts feel like a storm.

Why You Can’t Compare Races When Everyone Has a Different Track

There’s an irony in all of this: people who fight these invisible battles often develop a deep appreciation for the moments of progress they do manage to achieve. When everything feels like an uphill climb, even the smallest steps forward feel monumental.

They learn to cherish the fleeting moments of clarity, focus, or energy because they know all too well how rare those moments can be. A simple task, like cleaning their room, finishing an assignment, or even just reaching out to a friend, can feel like climbing a mountain—but that doesn’t make the achievement any less valid.

For someone racing with a broken engine, every accomplishment—no matter how small—feels like a victory. They don’t take motivation, focus, or even just the will to get through the day for granted, because they’ve experienced what it’s like to lose all of those things.

That’s why comparing struggles is pointless. Some people fight the road itself, navigating through visible barriers. Others fight the engine that keeps them moving forward. Some have an easier path, while others have obstacles that are invisible but just as difficult.

But in the end, both are racing the same race, just on different tracks.

And the finish line? It doesn’t care how you got there. It only matters that you kept going.