Why Overcoming Your Disease Is The Wrong Goal

TL;DR: "Overcoming" your disease sets you up for failure because chronic illness doesn't work like a finish line. The real work is learning to work with your body, not against it, day by day.

What you need to know:

• Battle language in healthcare creates psychological harm and places unbearable weight on people with chronic illness

• Success with chronic illness looks like showing up, not winning or being cured

• Working in tandem with your disease means meeting your body where it is each day

• Acceptance is a practice, not a destination you reach once

• The goal is integration, balancing self-management with living a meaningful life

Articles have been written about me overcoming my battle with Crohn's disease.

Feels misleading.

I'm still in the thick of it. Working through it every day. Still managing it daily. Still trying to figure out a lot of stuff.

I don't feel like I've overcome anything.

What I've learned is this disease operates on a cycle. You think something's going to fix it. It fixes it for a bit. Symptoms come back. Hope, misery, fix, repeat.

Soul-crushing.

Why Battle Language Doesn't Work

Me winning a pickleball tournament is not me overcoming the disease.

It's me working extra hard to compete and recover because most of the time my body's working against me. Or I'm trying to work with my body the best it's able right now.

Doesn't feel like I got to the top of the mountain and the disease is behind me.

Research shows militaristic language in healthcare creates psychological harm. Battle metaphors "place an unbearable weight on the patient." One person with metastatic breast cancer explained: "You feel like you're letting people down if you can't manage permanent positivity."

Exactly.

The Reality: Fighting language sets up a win/lose framework where chronic illness means you're always losing.

What Success Looks Like With Chronic Illness

I played a tournament in Malaysia. My body didn't hold up.

I was in pain. Had a bit of the flu. Was dealing with malabsorption from having an ostomy in heavy humidity and heat.

I was throwing up on court. Taking medical timeouts. Playing the guy who had an affair with my wife of ten years.

A lot went into that match. Brought on anxiety. My symptoms came on two months after the betrayal happened.

But I competed through the emotional struggle and the physical limitations.

Felt like success to me. Not because I won. Because I showed up.

What "overcoming" language misses is the grittiness of it. Me changing my ostomy belt because of sweat. Changing my entire outfit after warm-up because of how much fluid I was losing.

I didn't overcome anything. I dealt with what I had to deal with. Lived with it. Competed with it despite the challenges.

The Reality: Success with chronic illness is measured in showing up, not in victory or cure.

How I Stopped Fighting And Started Working With My Body

I stopped measuring myself against "overcoming" when I realized this wasn't going anywhere.

You can't stay in a cycle of hope because you'll keep getting let down.

My struggle today is going to be different than my struggle a month from now. Different than six months from now.

I'm facing the mountain directly in front of me one step at a time. I'm not silly enough to think there won't be another mountain down the road.

I'm not overcoming the disease. I'm not winning the fight against Crohn's.

I'm doing the best I can working in tandem with my disease.

The Reality: Letting go of the overcoming narrative means accepting the disease as a constant companion, not an enemy to defeat.

What Working In Tandem Means Daily

On a Tuesday morning, working in tandem means meeting my body where it is.

Hydrating. Drinking a lot of water because everything starts with hydration when you have an ostomy.

Dealing with the fistulas. Changing gauze. Showering, cleaning, taking care of myself hygienically and medically.

If I have to be in public that morning, I'm waking up earlier to get coffee and water through me so my output happens early versus later.

Eating plain, predictable food so I know how my output will be.

Requires me to live a more regimented life. The disease takes the lead on everything. First thing I deal with when I wake up. Last thing before I go to sleep.

I have three choices: ignore it, fight it, or work with it to make my life as enjoyable and livable as I can.

I have a tattoo on my wrist. Amor Fati. Latin phrase. Translates to "love of one's fate."

Don't try to run from the hand you're dealt. Don't wish it were different. Love it.

This is a lifelong practice. Not something you read and implement in the moment.

Research confirms acceptance ebbs and flows throughout life. It's not a state you reach once and stay in.

The Reality: Acceptance is a daily practice of meeting your body where it is, not a destination you arrive at.

When Acceptance Breaks Down

When I'm not loving my fate, it looks like exhaustion.

Moments of sadness. Feeling broken and frustrated.

The fatigue aspect is understated with fistulas and ostomies and medications. It's not my default to not do stuff. But there are times when this disease doesn't let you.

I'm tired and exhausted and can't leave my condo. Don't want to see anybody because I'm grumpy because I'm in pain.

Causes isolation. Which causes loneliness. Which causes depression. Which makes it harder to want to go out and do stuff.

A full-on cycle.

The Reality: Chronic illness creates a cycle of fatigue, isolation, and depression that compounds on itself.

What Overcoming Narratives Hide

When I played in Malaysia, it was a packed stadium court. A fun environment.

Nobody there knew I was sick. They thought I couldn't handle the heat.

They didn't understand what was going on underneath my shirt or shorts. Three sets of drains wired through and around my anus. An ostomy bag collected at my waist. No matter how many hydration drinks I drank, it still wasn't enough.

I won a tournament in Dubai ten weeks after my colostomy surgery. The greater achievement was traveling internationally and proving to myself this wasn't going to stop me.

At that time, the colostomy had given me real relief. Now, almost nine months post-op, the fistula pain is back pretty severely.

Shows there's nothing overcome.

One thing I've learned with this disease: even though I feel good right now, ten minutes from now is not guaranteed.

So I try to take advantage of the time I do feel okay. Get as much life and living as I can. Because I don't know when the tides are gonna turn.

The Reality: Chronic illness is invisible and unpredictable, which victory narratives completely erase.

What Language We Actually Need

I don't know what language would be better.

Before I had Crohn's, I would hear "chronic pain" and couldn't connect with it. The mental picture was somebody at home on the couch under covers, not living their life.

Wasn't something I understood before I dealt with it.

All I'm trying to do is give a glimpse into what chronic pain and chronic fatigue mean. Because it's not visible.

Even if you saw me right now, dealing with a lot of fistula pain and fatigue, you wouldn't know. You might think I'm grumpy or not a nice person.

What researchers call integration is "achieving balance in self-managing chronic illness and living a personally meaningful life." Living in the between and the now.

Closer.

It's survival. Trying to manage so I can get through the day.

I don't know how to make somebody connect with what it's like to live with chronic illness if they haven't felt it.

But I know "overcoming" isn't it.

The Reality: Integration, not overcoming, better describes the work of living with chronic illness.

Common Questions About Living With Chronic Illness

Does letting go of "overcoming" mean giving up?

No. It means shifting from fighting your body to working with it. Giving up would be ignoring your needs. Acceptance is meeting your body where it is each day and doing what you're able to do.

How do you measure progress if you're not trying to overcome the disease?

Progress looks like showing up. Managing symptoms well enough to do things meaningful to you. Learning what your body needs. Building a life around your limitations instead of waiting for them to disappear.

What do you say when people tell you to stay positive or keep fighting?

I tell them I'm not fighting. I'm managing. Positivity doesn't change my symptoms. What helps is people understanding this is a daily practice, not a battle I'll win or lose.

How do you cope with the unpredictability of chronic illness?

By taking advantage of good moments when they come. Not planning too far ahead. Having backup plans. Accepting that even ten minutes from now isn't guaranteed.

What helps when you're stuck in the isolation and depression cycle?

Recognizing it's part of the disease, not a personal failing. Small steps. Reaching out even when I don't want to. Remembering the cycle will shift again.

Is acceptance something you reach and then you're done?

No. Research shows acceptance ebbs and flows. Some days I'm working with my body. Other days I'm exhausted and frustrated. It's a practice you return to, not a state you stay in.

How do you explain chronic illness to people who haven't experienced it?

I don't know if you can. The invisibility makes it hard. People see me and think I'm fine or grumpy. They don't see what's happening underneath. All I can do is share what the daily reality looks like.

What would better language than "overcoming" look like?

Integration. Working in tandem. Managing. Adapting. Language that acknowledges the disease is part of your life, not something you'll defeat and leave behind.

Key Takeaways

• "Overcoming" language creates a win/lose framework where chronic illness means you're always losing

• Success with chronic conditions means showing up and managing symptoms, not achieving a cure

• Working with your disease instead of fighting it means meeting your body where it is each day

• Acceptance is a daily practice with good days and hard days, not a permanent state

• Chronic illness is invisible and unpredictable, which victory narratives completely miss

• Integration, balancing self-management with meaningful living, better describes the actual work

• The goal is building a life around your limitations, not waiting for them to disappear