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Inside the Unseen Struggles

  • Jan 25
  • 2 min read

Two years in hospice care messes with your head in ways you can’t even imagine.

It’s not about being sick or making peace with dying. It’s this strange in-between where every day feels like both a blessing and a curse. Hospice is supposed to focus on comfort and quality of life, but when you’re there for years, it starts to feel like an endless holding pattern. The mental toll is heavy—really heavy.

At first, it’s counting time—days, weeks, maybe months. But when those days stretch into years, you’re stuck in limbo, asking yourself questions without answers: Should I hold on to hope? Am I just existing? What’s the point? It’s exhausting. Some days, you’re thankful to still be here. Other days, you feel cheated. The awareness of death is constant—not as fear, but as this relentless shadow. It’s not dying that gets to you—it’s the waiting, the not knowing.

Losing your independence is hard. Depending on others for even the smallest things starts to chip away at your sense of self. You feel like a burden, even when people are kind. At the same time, the thought of being left alone is terrifying. It’s a constant tug-of-war between needing people and wanting to push them away.

And if you’re lucky enough to leave hospice? That transition isn’t what people think. It’s not some joyful "back to normal" moment. It’s disorienting. The world feels too loud, too fast, too much. Everyone assumes you’re relieved and happy, but honestly, you’re overwhelmed. There’s guilt, too—Why me? Why did I get more time when others didn’t? Even simple things like errands or casual conversations feel impossibly heavy.

Two years in hospice changes you. Surviving it? That’s a whole other story. It’s not about pretending to cherish every moment—it’s about being real. Some days, you’re angry. Some days, you’re scared. And some days, you’re just there. And that’s okay. Surviving hospice doesn’t make you a superhero, but it gives you a deep understanding of life, death, and humanity. And that understanding? It’s a quiet kind of strength.

 
 
 

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Mary Burrell - Second Chances Logo

Hi, I'm Mary Burrell. Thank you for stopping by my little corner of the internet. I hope my story can inspire, educate, and even bring a smile to your face. Let’s connect and create meaningful change together!

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