How Chron’s, multiple surgeries, and a long silence led me to create a social network for musicians, working class, and auto-immune people. There is a certain kind of silence of a guitar gathering dust in the corner of a room. For nearly three years, I couldn’t bring myself to pick up mine.
This isn’t just a story about learning to play again. It’s about how chronic illness stripped away my identity as a musician and how, stitchby stitch, surgery by surgery, I am building something new. Not just a comeback, but a community.
I was diagnosed with Chron’s disease at 40 , right when I had been playing in a local original band and started getting booked with real shows. At first, I told myself it was manageable. A few bad days. Stomach pain. But Crohn’s does not negotiate.
Over the next several years, my body became a series of hospital vacations. Complications. Infection. Each vacation stole a little more energy, little more confidence. Holding a guitar felt impossible when just getting out of bed was a victory.
The worst part wasn’t the pain, it was the isolation. Music had always been my language. Without it, I felt mute.
There is a musical rest symbol that means silence for a whole measure. My rest lasted years.
I would watch YouTube and TikTok Videos ot other guitarists and feel a mix of longing and grief. My fingers had forgotten the fretboard. My calluses were no longer there. Worse, my lungs and core weakened by surgeries and scarring couln’t support singing and strumming the way they used to.
I sold or gave away most of my music equipment, keeping only what was I considered necessary with hopes of being able to play again one day.
Late Januray of this year, something shifted. It wasn’t dramatic. No epiphany. I just had a morning with slightly less pain than usual. I picked up the dusty guitar. I tuned it and played a d chord. It buzzed. My fingers hurt after less than a minute. But it was sound. My sound. That one chord opened something in me. Over weeks, I played a few minutes a day. I learned to adapt sitting down, resting the guitar on my leg strategically so as to now hurt my open wounds from the last surgery.
But as I crept back into music, I noticed something strange. There was no space for people like me.
Every guitar app was about speed, shredding and perfection. “Check my 16 year old prodigy riff” No one ever spoke about playing through pain and fatigue. No one mentioned how to hold a guitar after abdominal surgery. No one asked “what if your body fails, but your love for music does not?
I’d look for a community of musicians with chronic illness, disabilities, or long recovery journeys. I realized over time this simply didn’t really exist.
If you know me you know I am patient. I taught myself to build a bare bones social network called ContentSocial.
The idea was simple
A place to share small wins
Great tips from guitar to auto-immune
No shame zone for canceling a live stream because you feel unwell
Profiles that list not just your influences, buy your energy level today.
While it is a work in progress. We have over a thousand users. Mostly people who want something that other platforms quit offering. A safe space. A place where you can chat in groups, go live without bots, or post a photo and not worry about backlash if you don’t post regularly .
Our body changes, but our sould never does. I know I am unable to play like I am 22. But I play more honestly now. Every note feels earned.
Community is the best medicine. While my scars did not heal I have stopped hiding them. Same goes for musical shame.
Building is healing. Creating a social network gave me a reason to get out of bed on really bad days. It’s not about venture capital. It’s about saying you are not alone.
Where am I now
Today, I can play for a couple of hours without stopping. I am relearning guitar note by note. May not be easy like it used to be but I am improving daily.
I log into the site everyday to look at a new post.
If you are a musician with a chronic illness, or just someone who hung up their instrument and forgot why.
The case isn’t a coffin. It’s a time capsule. Open it when you a ready. And if you want a place to share that first rusty chord, you know where to find me.
I am linking my YouTube and Github repo .You can see my guitar playing and code for this site.
https://www.youtube.com/@dwightbedsaul
https://github.com/eldorado101
Dwight Bedsaul
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