The Thread That Holds Me Together: How Crochet Became My Practice

Living with Chronic Illness means constantly adapting. Crochet gave me something to feel whole again.

When you live with a chronic illness, care for yourself and others starts to look very, very different. It's no longer spa days and bubble baths, girls nights and dancing the night away. It's meds on time, crash naps, "horizontal time" before we go out anywhere, and figuring out what meals aren't going to make you sick that day. It's planning every minute of every day. It's pacing your day like it's a marathon even if all you did was get dressed and make tea. It's leaning your limits so well that you can almost hear them before they come knocking on the "it's time to lay down" door. For a long time, I didn't know what to do with the empty hours that pain and fatigue left behind. I would clean for hours, only to need to lay down and not be able to enjoy the cleanliness of my space. I didn't know what to do with myself until picked up a hook and some yarn, and found a rhythm I could live inside.

Crochet Gave Me a Way to Feel Useful Again

Before illness changes my life, I used to measure my worth by how much I could get done in a week. I was a full time college student, held down a couple different "voluntold" roles at my churches, balanced a social life, and my physical illnesses all at once at one time. Productivity was my safety net. Get things done and no one can think you're worthless. Until my body took all of that away.

Crochet doesn't ask me for energy I don't have. It doesn't punish me for needing breaks or time off. It waits. It welcomes me back. Exactly the way that I left it. It lets me feel capable again on days when all I could do was sit quietly with my hands. There's a strange kind of magic in watching something grow from a single look. A bag, a sleeve, a tiny swatch of color. Something soft that didn't exist before that just came out of my own hands and ability. And on the days where my body is falling apart, crochet reminds me that I can still make things that hold together.

The Focus it Brings Is a Kind of Medicine

Brain fog is brutal. Just ask Jared, on Friday, I told him that I was going to put a sticky note on the fridge for something we needed to remember for him to bring to work..... he doesn't work on Saturdays. But as brutal as brain fog is, so is pain. So is the buzzing anxiety that comes from not knowing how you'll feel in the next hour, let alone the next day.

But with crochet, there's a quiet structure. A pattern to follow. A repetitive rhythm that anchors me back into the present day. It's like a form of meditation, almost, that doesn't judge me for needing a snack break, or an ice pack, or a nap halfway through the row I was working on. Some people have Yoga, another thing I personally like to do is Journal, but best of all I have a yarn, hook, and the peace of counting stitches loud enough to forget what I'm thinking about.

Creating Slowly, With No Deadline, Is my Protest

The world doesn't have much patience for slowness, especially from disabled bodies. But crocheting for my own business gave me permission to move at a pace that's actually sustainable and maintainable. I get to pick and choose what I sell and when I choose to sell it. If I decided to make a beanie in July, I COULD! (and I have!) Selling in markets and having drops on my site have made this much easier because I pick my own inventory.

Each project is a reminder that even when I'm slow, even when I have a reason to stop what I'm doing, I'm still building something. My speed doesn't define the quality of my work, or my ability to create. And neither does yours!

This Isn't Just a Hobby, It's A Lifeline

People sometimes think of Crochet as "Just a Craft". But for me, and maybe for you, it's so much more than that. Crochet has a deep seated meaning with me because everything that I know came from my great aunt and my grandmother. I wouldn't have been able to do any of this without them. But, it's also just a quiet companion when I feel lonely or isolated. A physical record of how I spend my energy with care. A reminder that even when my body is in pain, I'm capable of creating something soft and beautiful that will benefit someone else. Crochet isn't just something I do, it's part of me in so many ways.