Finding Strength in Worry
Living with an autoimmune disease feels like carrying an invisible weight that only gets heavier with time. It’s not just the fatigue, the aches, or the flare-ups that I have to manage. It’s the constant undercurrent of worry that creeps in late at night or in quiet moments, reminding me of tomorrow's uncertainty.
Sometimes, I wonder if others genuinely understand what it’s like to live in a body that’s always unpredictable. Each new symptom brings its wave of worry. Will this pass, or is it the beginning of a new phase of my illness? Will I be able to keep up with my work, friendships, and plans? And, maybe most distressing, how much of this worry worsens my health?
It turns out that this kind of worry isn’t just exhausting; it can feed back into the illness itself. Stress and anxiety don’t stay in our heads—they settle into our bodies, fueling inflammation and sometimes making symptoms worse. Learning this has changed the way I approach my health. It’s given me a new reason to look at stress management as essential to healing and not just a luxury or an afterthought.
Living with an Illness That Feeds on Worry
I’ve come to realize that my autoimmune condition isn’t just a physical battle. It’s a mental and emotional one, too. When I worry, when I let the stress build-up, I’m not just adding to my mental load—I’m impacting my body’s ability to cope with the disease. Studies have shown that chronic stress can cause our immune systems to go haywire, intensifying inflammation. For those of us already dealing with an autoimmune condition, this heightened inflammation means that stress can make our symptoms flare up.
For me, this has been painfully true. I’ve noticed that my body feels more fragile after days or weeks of constant worry. My symptoms seem sharper, as if my immune system is on overdrive, attacking itself more intensely. Realizing this has been eye-opening. Worry isn’t just a side effect of living with an autoimmune disease—it’s a force that can intensify it.
But this understanding also gave me a sense of agency. If worry can worsen my symptoms, finding ways to manage it might relieve some. I’ve started to explore small practices that help me reduce stress and feel more in control. This journey isn’t easy, and I have a long way to go, but acknowledging the role of worry in my illness has been a powerful step toward healing.
When Stress and Symptoms Collide
When you live with an autoimmune condition, worry isn’t just a mental exercise—it becomes something you feel in your body. I used to think of stress as something separate from my physical health, like a nagging background noise that I could ignore. But over time, I realized that my body absorbs every bit of that stress. For me, constant worry feels like an itch under my skin, a kind of tension that never quite lets up. And I’ve noticed that during times of intense worry, my symptoms seem to have a mind of their own, flaring up as if they’re reacting to the emotional storm within me.
It’s not just in my head, either. Science backs up what many of us with autoimmune diseases have already felt firsthand. When we’re under chronic stress, our bodies release cortisol, a hormone meant to help us cope in short bursts. But with constant worry, that cortisol starts working against us. It disrupts our immune response, ramping up inflammation and worsening our symptoms. So, when my mind spins with stress and my body feels inflamed, I do not imagine things. My body is reacting to the worry, turning it into physical pain, fatigue, and that overwhelming sense of exhaustion that only those with chronic illnesses can truly understand.
Knowing this has helped me feel a little more in control. I’ve started to view worry and stress as symptoms in themselves—ones that I can try to manage, just like I manage the physical side of my illness. I’ve realized that if I let worry run unchecked, I’m essentially giving my illness a foothold, allowing it to settle deeper into my life. This understanding has pushed me to make managing my mind as much of a priority as managing my physical health, even if it’s one small step at a time.
Learning to Ease My Worry, One Small Practice at a Time
Managing worry when you’re dealing with an autoimmune condition is no small feat. For me, it’s been a process of trial and error, learning what brings relief and what only adds to the cycle of stress. Over time, I’ve found that small changes make a big difference—not by erasing the worry but by giving me more control over how it affects me. Here are a few things that have helped me bring more peace into my life, even on the hard days.
Mindfulness and Meditation
Mindfulness sounded impossible to me at first. I thought, “How can I focus on the present when I’m constantly worried about what’s next?” But I started small. Just a few minutes each day of focusing on my breath, allowing myself to be in the moment without judgment. These moments of calm have started to create a buffer between me and my worries. Now, when I feel stress building, I can close my eyes, breathe, and create a little more space in my mind. It’s not a cure, but it’s a tool, and over time, it’s helped me feel more grounded.
Journaling as a Release
I used to keep all my worries bottled up, thinking it was better not to dwell on them. But I didn’t realize that these unspoken worries were living inside me, growing louder over time. Journaling became a way to let those thoughts out—acknowledging them without letting them take over. Some days, I write down everything unfiltered and raw in my mind. On other days, I focus on what I’m grateful for, no matter how small. This practice has become a safe place to process my fears without letting them dominate my day.
Setting Boundaries as an Act of Self-Respect
One of the hardest lessons for me was learning to say no—not just to other people, but to the expectations I put on myself. There’s a voice in my head that pushes me to keep going, to prove that I can keep up and that my illness doesn’t define me. But pushing through has often led to burnout and worse symptoms. Now, I’m learning that it’s okay to set boundaries and to permit myself to rest. Saying no to one thing can mean saying yes to my health, and I’ve come to see this as a form of self-respect rather than a weakness.
The Strength I’ve Found in Family Support
For me, opening up to my family about my autoimmune struggles wasn’t easy at first. I didn’t want to worry them; part of me felt like this was my burden. But as time passed, I realized that my family wanted to be there for me—not just during the good days, but especially during the hard ones. Having their support has been one of the most grounding things in my life, providing me with a safe place to share my worries without judgment.
Family can offer comfort that even the best stress management techniques can’t fully replicate. Sometimes, it’s as simple as a reassuring word from a parent, a shared meal that brings comfort, or a check-in call that lets me know I’m not alone. My family’s support reminds me that I don’t have to go through this journey in isolation and that there are people who love me and want to help me, even if they can’t fully understand what I’m feeling.
Over time, I’ve realised that leaning on family isn’t a sign of weakness—it’s a way of finding strength. When I allow myself to accept their care, I’m permitting myself to rest, to share the emotional load, and to feel connected. Their support has been invaluable, helping me find the courage to keep going, even on days when worry feels overwhelming. For anyone facing a similar struggle, I hope you know that reaching out to loved ones can be one of the most powerful steps toward healing.
A Journey Worth Sharing
Living with an autoimmune disease has taught me so much about resilience, patience, and the value of leaning on others. I used to believe that worry was something I had to face alone, but now I know that sharing it with people who love me lightens the load. Whether it’s a heartfelt conversation, a comforting presence, or simply knowing that I have people who care about my well-being, my family’s support has been one of my greatest sources of strength.
To anyone else on this journey: remember that it’s okay to lean on the people who love you. Healing isn’t always something we can accomplish alone, and even the smallest act of reaching out can make a world of difference. We may not have chosen this path, but together, we can find ways to live well, to feel stronger, and to keep moving forward with hope.
