A few years ago, I found two large tins in the back of one of our kitchen cupboards. They were full of supplements.
I’d forgotten how many we’d bought over the years, so I tipped them all out onto the kitchen table. There were bottles, containers and pouches everywhere. Some were half empty, some we’d finished completely and, if I’m honest, there were a few I couldn’t even remember buying or trying.
I just stood there looking at them. I remember thinking, “Blimey… how did we end up with all of these?”.
The funny thing is, I didn’t feel guilty. I wasn’t annoyed about the money we’d spent or embarrassed that we’d tried so many things. At the time, every single one of those supplements had felt like a perfectly sensible decision.
Some had been recommended by practitioners. Others by friends. Quite a few came from those evenings when I’d been sitting on the sofa searching the internet because someone, somewhere, had said, “This was the thing that finally helped me”.
When someone you love is ill, or you’re desperately trying to make sense of your own health, you don’t think, “I’ll buy another supplement”. You think, “What if this helps?”.
They’re two very different things.
It wasn’t the supplements that made me stop and think
Looking back now, I don’t think those tins were really about supplements at all.
They were about hope.
Every bottle represented another time we’d thought, “Maybe this is worth trying”. And I don’t regret that. I suspect plenty of people living with chronic illness will recognise that feeling.
What struck me wasn’t how many supplements we’d bought. It was everything that had come with them. Every new supplement meant another thing to remember.
When did we start this one? Was it helping? Should we keep going? Should we stop? Was it making something else worse? Had we given it long enough?
On their own, those are perfectly reasonable questions. But when you’ve got lots of supplements in two tins, and appointments to remember, symptoms changing from one week to the next, and a life that’s already become much smaller than it used to be… those questions start taking up quite a lot of space.
Not in the cupboard. In your head.
I started seeing it in other people too
In conversations with people living with chronic illness, I’d hear about another supplement they’d ordered, a practitioner someone had recommended, or something they’d read late at night while searching for answers.
People would tell me about a supplement they’d just ordered. Or a practitioner or therapy someone had recommended. Or a podcast they’d listened to. Or something they’d read at 2am because they couldn’t sleep and were hoping they’d finally find the answer.
None of that is wrong. In fact, it makes complete sense. When you’re trying to feel better, of course you look for things that might help.
The problem isn’t that people are trying. It’s that, over time, trying can quietly become another full-time job.
My thinking has changed
Years ago, I was fascinated by which supplements might help with particular symptoms or health problems. I still find the science interesting, and I know that some supplements have important, evidence-based uses.
But these days, I’m just as interested in the work that accumulates around trying to get better.
The researching. The comparing. The remembering. The wondering whether you’re missing something important. The feeling that you should always be doing one more thing.
And what happens to the rest of your life when so much time and energy goes into managing your health?
I don’t think we talk about that nearly enough.
This isn’t about throwing everything away
Please don’t read this and think I’m saying supplements don’t help. Some do. Some have genuinely helped people I know. Some may be helping you. And if you’re considering changing or stopping supplements, it’s worth checking with your pharmacist or healthcare professional first, particularly if you take medication or have an ongoing medical condition.
That’s not really what this article is about.
It’s about noticing what can happen when more and more things gradually get added over time. One supplement. One practitioner. One diet. One podcast. One more thing to think about.
Eventually, it becomes difficult to know what’s helping anymore. And when that happens, people often assume they need to try harder.
Sometimes, what they actually need is a bit more clarity.
So these days, I ask a different question
Instead of asking, “What else could I try?”, I find myself wondering, “How much am I already juggling?”.
That question changed everything for me. Because it made me realise that people don’t just lose energy to chronic illness itself. They also lose energy trying to manage it.
Once I’d seen that, I couldn’t unsee it. And, if I’m honest, it’s probably the reason this website exists.
Warmly,
Jo 💚
Not sure what’s helping anymore?
If your own supplement cupboard has become difficult to make sense of, I’ve put together a free guide that may help.
Making Sense of Your Supplements will help you get everything onto one list, take a closer look at up to three supplements and identify questions you may want to discuss with your healthcare professional.
It won’t tell you what to take or suggest you throw everything away. It’s simply a way to get a clearer picture of what you’re dealing with.
About Jo
I’m Jo Saxton. My background is in biological sciences, scientific research and publishing, and I’m a Functional Medicine Certified Health Coach.
Years of living alongside complex chronic illness in my own family taught me how much time and energy can disappear into trying to understand and manage it.
Today, I write and offer one-to-one conversations to help people make sense of what’s going on, find ways to make things more manageable and create more room for life alongside illness.