Grief and Chronic Illness: Navigating the Loss You Didn’t Expect
Grief isn’t just for death. Let’s get that out of the way right now. Grief shows up any damn time we lose something—except maybe your car keys?—whether that’s a person, a dream, a plan, a version of ourselves, or the life we thought we were going to live.
When you live with chronic illness, grief becomes a daily visitor. In the beginning, it was constant for me. Sometimes quiet. Sometimes loud and raw—a tangled mess of frustration, pain, and hot tears. And no one really prepares you for the weight of grief you’re about to carry. Real talk? It doesn’t ever go away. It just gets easier to navigate and process. Get ready to become the captain of the SS Resilience (okay, I made that up, but you get the idea).
We learn how to grieve death—the loss of a person, a pet, or a relationship. But nobody teaches us how to grieve the body we used to live in, the friendships that drift because we’re “always canceling,” or the goals that had to change when our health didn’t keep up. That one slammed into me like a wrecking ball after a doctor’s appointment. Sitting in my car, the thought hit me: I may never hike the way I used to again. No more mountain tops, no more wide-open views. I just started ugly crying all over my dashboard.
Here’s the thing: if society isn’t handing us a grief manual for chronic illness, we get to write it ourselves. We can teach ourselves to honor losses without a clear script or timeline. We can practice radical permission—to feel sadness without shame, scream into pillows without guilt, and hold space for messy, non-linear healing. We learn to listen deeply to our bodies and hearts, even when the world says “get over it” or “keep pushing.” Spoiler alert: Sis, hustle culture can kiss my ass. You should never keep pushing at the cost of your wellbeing.
““Grief isn’t weakness—it’s proof we loved, hoped, and dared to dream.””
The 7 Stages of Grief in Chronic Illness
Shock & Denial: The floor drops, and you convince yourself it’s just a phase or a flare. You pretend you’re fine while everything feels broken.
Pain & Guilt: The heartbreaking “why can’t I just push through?” moments, carrying guilt for what you can’t do.
Anger: White-hot fury at your body, doctors, and a life that feels stolen. Valid rage that needs to burn out.
Bargaining: Making deals with your body, fate, or routines in desperate hopes of relief.
*Depression: The heavy fog of sadness and “will this ever end?” You’re grieving, not broken.
Reconstruction & Working Through: Building new routines, setting boundaries, and learning to live in your changed body.
Acceptance & Hope: Finding peace with your new reality and allowing space for joy, meaning, and love—as you are.
How Do We Move Through Grief?
Healing and grief aren’t linear journeys. You’ll circle back to stages, revisit feelings, and sometimes feel stuck. Moving through grief isn’t about “getting over it” or ticking boxes. It’s messy, slow, and often two steps forward, one step back. Here’s what helped me—and might help you too:
Name it: Say it loud and clear. “I’m grieving.” Give your feelings a space to breathe.
Let it be messy: There’s no perfect timeline. Cry, rage, rest—whatever your grief demands.
Create rituals: Light a candle, knit a scarf, write a letter—honor your losses in your own way.
Connect: Find your people. Communities where you can be raw, real, and understood.
Speak your truth: Journal, talk, shout into the void—whatever gets your truth out.
Allow beauty: Let joy and grief live side by side. Laugh, create, rest. Both can coexist.
Rest: Your body and heart need space to heal. Rest isn’t weakness—it’s sacred.
Grief and chronic illness walk hand in hand. So do healing and community. I believe in naming the hard stuff. I believe in softness without apology. And I believe grief, just like yarn, can be unraveled—and reknit into something beautiful.
You’re not alone in this. I see you. I’m with you. Just keep stitching.
Let me know where you are on your journey in the comments below.
*Please note the difference between sadness: situational depression and actual depression. If you are experiencing depression please seek the help of a mental health professional
