Looking In, Missing Out: When Illness Blinds Us to the Pain of Those Who Love Us

Living with chronic illness can feel like being stuck in a storm—with wind, rain, and uncertainty hitting from all directions. You focus on keeping yourself steady, dry, and safe. And that’s okay. That’s survival.

But what I’ve come to realize is that sometimes, in the middle of that storm, I didn’t look up. I didn’t see that the person holding the umbrella for me—was also soaking wet, shivering, and hurting.

When you live with something like MS, or any chronic condition, your world can shrink. Everything starts to revolve around symptoms, appointments, energy levels, and pain. It’s easy to turn inward—because you’re simply trying to get through the day. But in that inward focus, we sometimes miss the quiet efforts and quiet grief of the people beside us.

They show up. They adjust. They worry in silence. And sometimes, they carry their own sadness while trying to hold space for ours.

This isn’t about blame. This is about realizing that love in the face of illness is hard—for everyone. And just because someone seems strong on the outside doesn’t mean they’re not breaking on the inside.

There were times I didn’t notice the gestures—the gentle nudges, the quiet encouragement, the ways someone was trying to help me move forward not focus on the MS even when I resisted. And looking back, I wish I had said thank you more. I wish I had asked, “How are you really doing?” instead of always needing to be asked that myself.

It doesn’t mean I was wrong for struggling. It means they were right there, struggling too.

So to anyone who’s loving someone through illness: I see you.And to anyone who is that someone—I hope you take a moment to look up.Notice who’s walking beside you. Ask how they’re holding up. Thank them for the umbrella, even if it’s battered and frayed.

Because sometimes, in the middle of surviving, we forget that someone else is surviving us.

And recognizing that? That’s where healing begins—for both hearts.