When the Death Pile Becomes a Detour: What Chronic Illness Taught Me About Changing Directions

I started selling on eBay because I could feel my body changing and not in a good way. I was getting sicker and quietly panicking about what would happen if I couldn’t hold down a traditional job anymore. Reselling felt like a lifeline. It was something I could do from home, at my own pace, with flexibility that didn’t exist in a 9-to-5 world. It gave me hope, purpose, and a way to contribute.

And for a while, it worked.

I learned about sourcing inventory, researched what sold well, and got really good at shipping and listing. I saw potential, and I hustled hard. But then my health said, “Not so fast.”

As my symptoms worsened, I had less and less energy to manage it all. I was able to shop for the inventory, but not the capacity to keep up with the listing. The listings slowed. My workspace became cluttered. The bags and boxes started to mock me, each one whispering, “When are you going to get this done? We could have been money already… if you just had the energy.”

That’s how my stuff turned into a death money pile.

It wasn’t just stuff. It was potential income, a reminder of what I couldn’t finish, and a source of guilt. Chronic illness steals your time, your energy, your clarity. And I was watching my “Plan B” quietly pile up and become a burden.

But here’s the truth: sometimes, the detour is the direction.

Instead of pushing harder, I started paying attention to where I was being pulled. My health journey wasn’t destined to stay personal; it was something I needed to talk about. I realized that self-advocacy, encouragement, and chronic illness education were calling to me louder than any ka-ching notification from a sale.

That’s when MsVix began to shift.

Now, I’m still listing some small, manageable items with part-time help from Serenity. We are also prepping for an indoor yard sale of a bunch of used items I don’t want to list. Every item that leaves my possession is a piece of pressure off my shoulders. It’s just being able to let stuff go when I already spent money on it and it can be sold for more than I spent, even though my accountant says I can because I already wrote it off.

I’m learning to pivot with grace. To unclench my grip on things I thought I should do. To trust that even when I can’t do everything, I’m still doing enough.

If you’re in the same boat, surrounded by dreams that feel like clutter now, I want you to know it’s okay to change directions. Your health matters more than a storage shelf. Your worth isn’t tied to productivity. And your journey is still valuable, even if it’s not going the way you planned.

We’re still moving forward, friend. Even when it looks like letting go.

Have you ever had to change directions because of your health? Or let go of something you worked hard to build? I’d love to hear your story in the comments or over on my Facebook page.