ALT A photo of three boxes of FFP2 masks and informational handouts about Long COVID

ALT Crushed/Not crushed Anna-Karin Ulpe While I'm nearly crushed by the weight of all these stones, and every movement is so heavy, and life is so heavy that it's nearly crushing me... But I'm still fighting, every day, all the time. I'm not giving up. I'm a warrior under weight. And we all are.

ALT A photo of a cut out of a warrior. On top of the cut out from the waist down are stones.

ALT Just the vulnerable will die (alt text part 1) Maeve Sherry "Just the vulnerable will die": This phrase has haunted me for the last four years as someone who started having immune issues before the pandemic hit. Just hearing over and over from people I had respected or cared about: Oh, good news! Just people with pre-existing conditions will die. Not a big deal for the rest of us at all. Just the vulnerable, they'll fall by the wayside. as Dr. Fauci said. But the rest of us should be fine. So 1 just came up with a design that I felt represented what it feels like to hear that statement from people in your life, to hear that, Oh, just people like you will die, and that's an acceptable loss for us. And to me that was like the dead trees around. The people in my community, my friends, some of my relatives who I share these conditions with - we're the vulnerable.

ALT A photo of an embroidered black surgical mask. The embroidery depicts a person walking down a path surrounded by dead trees. At the bottom it says “just the vulnerable will die” Alt text continued: This isn't an abstract point for me. These dead trees, these are all people I know and care about. And so I just drew a figure walking off, walking down a path that has no end in sight, because it doesn't seem like anyone is actually invested in ending the pandemic at this point. So that's why I just had the path taper off into, not really a horizon... it just keeps going, and we don't know where it's going to go. And the uncertainty that I feel with being in this fragile body every day, and not knowing if I'm going to take one breath in the wrong room and get Covid again and get worse. Meanwhile just feeling very alone, and isolated and cold.

ALT Stand with me Toni Ireton Every single time I entered a new space or a new room, I just took a picture of my feet and the floor. Because I wanted to show this repetitiveness, how small my world has become. And the reason I called it "Stand with me" is: walk in my feet for a week. Walk where I walk for a week. And if vou can understand and walk in my feet for a week, you'll understand how small my world is. You'll understand that this isn't for fun. This isn't a choice. This is something that I have no choice about. I'm stuck with three rooms. I'm walking around those three rooms all day long. Until you walk a day in my shoes, you don't really know - unless you have it. Those are the three rooms you walk around all day long: your bedroom, your kitchen, your sitting room. And that's on a day that you're lucky enough that you can walk around.

ALT 18 photos of their feet in various rooms in their house.

ALT 18 photos of their feet, mostly in their house. There a few photos of their feet on the beach and in grass.

ALT 18 photos of their feet, most of which are in their house.

ALT A photo of part of the exhibition - it has the poster advert as well as a poem, a drawing, and a caption for the drawing. Poem part 1: Long covid has taken over my body Rebecca Danyali Long covid has taken over my body It's throbbing in my veins It's pulsating in my forehead all the way through to my toenails It's rushing around and around and then starts pushing on my brain It's forcing me into rest and I've no idea what to do It's twisting all my thoughts and stops the blood flowing through Its ringing in my ears and finger tips are numb Its making me have hot sweats but my feet are turning blue It wakes me when I'm sleeping when pins and needles run through my arm but there's no shaking it off, its sticking to me like glue It sits with me in a crowd and hates it when they re loud It doesnt want you touching me or asking how I am... honestly, I have no idea It doesn't like bright lights or too much info at once It cant concentrate when lots is going on but hates it when you've gone

ALT Poem (continued) It isolates me away from you and makes people look at me strange Sometimes my face is reacting to something my body is doing I'm not in control of my body so trying to work out what it's doing Long covid has taken over my body, my thoughts, my future and my dreams It wants an emergency exit, a blanket - and to scream It makes me crave salt and sugar and then I'm thirsty all the time It's definitely a seasonal monster and likes to come out to play when other sickness is around It likes to join forces and it likes to bring you down It wants to make me sad for no reason that I can tell It wants to make me angry and it's making my life hell It wants to push me down and makes me want to give up It wants to make me sleep forever and then never to be able to sleep again It tricks you into thinking you're rested and you're well - and then it's back, pulsating through your veins and pushing on your temples It's running around my body, it's exhausting and it's enough

ALT Poem (continued) But it doesn't stop and it's not going away, so continue I must Every part of me is aching like I've been hit with a bat Every part of me is twitching and I'm never coming back Long covid has taken over my body. It's no longer on its own It's pelting me around the head and making me moan There's no ignoring it because if you do, you'll know There's no masking it with pain relief because - crash, you're pushed back down There's no curing it, no answers, all unknown There's no accepting it because it transforms from day to day Long covid has taken me over. Time spent on my own

ALT Poster advert for the display on level 4 of the DL library. The effects of chronic illness on people's bodies and lives are varied and, in many cases, poorly understood. Conditions like ME/CFS and Long Covid, in particular, continue to be glossed over and marginalised by healthcare systems, social benefit providers, and general public around the world, with further repercussion for the health of those already bearing the brunt of illness. This exhibition is the outcome of a research project that asked people suffering from ME/CFS, long Covid, and other chronic conditions to use arts to convey what it is like to live with chronic illness. Responses ranged from photographs to drawings, embroideries, knitting, collages, and poetry. This exhibition gathers all those to share the often invisible experiences of chronically ill people and bring to light the resilience and creativity of this communitv. This exhibition is part of a EU-funded project, MISFIRES