Post 10: Blogmas 2025: The Stuff I Don’t Talk About (But Maybe Should): Running a Small Business With Chronic Illness

Blogmas is supposed to be cheerful. Cozy. Sparkly. A little loud.

And I do love cozy. I built a whole business around it.

But December is also loud in a different way. Physically. Emotionally. Socially. There is this pressure to show up like everything is fine, like consistency equals ease, like if you can post and ship and smile then you must be doing great.

This is what it looks like to run a small business with chronic illness, and why I build Upper Room Prints around sustainability.

I want to talk about the stuff I don’t usually talk about. Not in a dramatic way. Not in an oversharing spiral. Just calmly. Honestly. With boundaries.

Because I am doing meaningful, intentional work, but I am doing it inside real limits. And that changes everything.

Working within limits (running a small business with chronic illness)

There are parts of disability that are easy to share in a neat little sentence. “I have chronic illness.” “I need accommodations.” “I have to pace myself.” Those are true, and they are also the simplified version.

The fuller truth is that my physical capacity is not unlimited. My energy is not a blank check. My body has a ceiling, and I hit it faster than people realize.

I don’t share diagnosis details or medical specifics, because those are private. I’m not here to explain or justify my limits. But I do want to say this clearly: when you see Upper Room Prints, you are seeing work made inside a very real container.

Running a small business with chronic illness means my capacity is part of the business plan.

A lot of my life is working within limits.

Sustainable, not maximal.

Burnout is not always dramatic

Burnout doesn’t always look like a breakdown. Sometimes it looks like being functional, but at a cost.

It looks like doing the thing, then paying for it later.

It looks like pushing through because you have to, then quietly trying to recover in the gaps.

It looks like loving your work and still being exhausted by what it takes to keep it going.

Burnout can look like functioning on the outside while paying for it later.

One of the clearest examples for me this year has been markets. I can have a good weekend. Good sales. Good conversations. People happy to find my work. All of that is real and I am grateful for it.

And then I go home and my body is done.

Not tired. Not need a nap. Done.

Sometimes it takes several days to recover, and in that recovery time, I am also doing the mental math of whether I can keep doing this at the same pace.

That is the part I don’t usually say out loud.

Effort doesn’t equal income in small business

This one is hard to talk about because it’s vulnerable and also because people get weird about money fast.

So I’m not sharing dollar amounts. I’m not asking anyone to fix it. I’m just naming something true: small business can be a lot of quiet effort, and the results don’t always match the work.

There are seasons where I am doing everything right and it still feels like I’m barely holding the thread. There are days where I have to choose between making art and resting, and neither choice feels simple.

The hardest part of running Upper Room Prints is not the printing or the packaging or even the constant list of tasks.

It is the balancing act.

Creative joy, physical capacity, financial necessity.

All at the same time.

“You should scale up” is not helpful (disability and capacity)

I know people mean well. I do.

But I wish people would stop saying things like:

• You should scale up
• Have you thought about doing more
• You could really blow up if you just…

As if capacity is unlimited. As if my body is not part of the business plan. As if more is always the goal.

Disability and entrepreneurship can work together, but not if the plan assumes unlimited energy.

I’m not trying to build the biggest version of this business. I’m trying to build the truest one. The one I can actually live inside.

Sustainable, not maximal.

That is not a motivational quote for me. It is survival.

What I am proud of (sustainable, not maximal)

I am proud that I keep choosing sustainability over burnout, even when it means slower growth.

That choice is not flashy. It doesn’t photograph well. It doesn’t always look like success from the outside.

But it is the reason I am still here. Still making things. Still showing up.

And I’m still working on letting myself rest without feeling like I have to earn it. I’m not fixed. I’m not done learning that. I’m practicing.

If you want to support Upper Room Prints (simple version)

If you have ever wondered how to support Upper Room Prints without prying or making it weird, here is the simple version:

• Subscribe to the newsletter
• Share my work if it resonates
• Shop when you can, and truly no guilt if you cannot
• Engage kindly. Comments matter more than people think

An open door (quiet effort counts)

If you are also quietly struggling, if you are also working within limits, if you are also doing your best inside a body or brain that doesn’t cooperate with the pace the world expects, I see you.

There is so much quiet effort in this life. It counts.

If you want to stay in the loop, you can join my newsletter. If you want to browse the shop, the door is open. No pressure. Just here, when you are ready.

Working within limits.

Sustainable, not maximal.

Quiet effort.