The Loneliness of Chronic Illness: When No One Really Gets It
- samantha sloves
- Apr 28
- 3 min read
Updated: 4 days ago
I don’t think people realize that chronic illness is just as much an emotional battle as it is a physical one.
You can be in a room full of people you love and still feel completely alone.
Because no matter how much they care…No matter how much they try to understand…No matter how many times they say, “I’m here for you”…
There’s a part of this experience that no one else can touch.
No one understands what it’s like to be trapped in a body that won’t cooperate.
No one understands the exhaustion of explaining yourself over and over, only to not be believed.
No one understands the grief of watching the life you planned slip further away every day.
Watching Life From the Sidelines
Before I got sick, I never thought about what it meant to feel separate from the world.
I thought loneliness was about not having people around.
But the truth?
You can be surrounded by people and still feel like you’re on an island.
Because while everyone else is out living—planning trips, going to work, laughing over brunch—you’re stuck inside your own body, dealing with symptoms no one else can see.
And no matter how much you try to explain, no one really gets it.
They don’t get why you cancel plans last-minute.
They don’t get why everyday tasks drain you.
They don’t get why their advice (“Just push through! You’ll feel better if you get out more!”) feels like a slap in the face.
They don’t get what it’s like to grieve a life that looks nothing like the one you planned.

The Guilt of Feeling Like a 'Burden'
Chronic illness doesn’t just make you feel alone—it makes you feel like a problem.
Like you’re too much.
Like you’re exhausting to be around.
Like you’re the friend who’s always sick, always needing accommodations, always the one who makes things complicated.
And that guilt? It’s suffocating.
Because even when people say they don’t mind, even when they tell you they love you and support you…
You still wonder if they secretly wish things were easier.
If they wish you were easier.
So you start pulling back.
You stop reaching out first.
You stop asking for help.
You let the loneliness settle in, because at least that way, you don’t have to feel like a burden.
You Can't Force People to Understand—But You Can Find People Who Do
Here’s what I’ve learned:
You can’t force people to understand.
You can’t make them get it.
You can’t explain your way into being fully seen.
But what you can do?
Find people who don’t need an explanation.
People who have been there.
People who don’t need proof to believe you.
People who won’t tell you to “just be positive” or “try harder.”
And that’s why I created My Lyme Coach.
Because I know what it’s like to feel alone in this.
And I also know how much everything changes when you finally find someone who sees you, hears you, and knows—without a doubt—that your experience is real.

You're Not Alone in This.
If you’re sitting here thinking, “No one understands what I’m going through,” I promise you—someone does.
You are not the only one feeling this way.
And you don’t have to do this alone.
Have you struggled with feeling alone in your illness? I see you.
If you want someone in your corner, let's talk.

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