About Spoonworthy
Running on one spoon and pure spite since day one.
Somewhere out there is a wellness app gently asking you to breathe. It has a sage green gradient. It wants you to journal three things you are grateful for. It has never once had to sit down on a shower floor because standing became a group project.
We are not that app. We would like to be as far from that app as the law allows.
Spoonworthy is for people with chronic illness and disability who have been handed one too many beige interfaces, one too many unasked-for wellness fixes, and one too many inspirational quotes laid over a stock photo of a woman on a beach who is very clearly not experiencing tachycardia. You have a finite number of spoons. You did not agree to today. Nobody asked you. We built this app about it, mostly while horizontal, occasionally while dissociating, always while clutching something with electrolytes in it.
Leadership is a possum.
His name is Reggie, his title is Chief Feral Officer, and he filed the paperwork himself, with his little hands. He is holding his last spoon and he will not be releasing it, do not reach for it, he will hiss. He has been playing dead since 2019 as a lifestyle, a coping strategy, and a form of protest, and he has the under-eye bags to prove it. Reggie communicates exclusively through hissing and solidarity. He will not tell you it gets better. He will not forward you an article about celery juice. He will simply lie down next to you, feral and unbothered, holding his spoon while you hold yours, which is frankly more emotional support than most group chats provide.
Reggie has also never once given medical advice, which already puts him several rungs above your aunt, the comments section, and that influencer with the ring light and the supplement code.
Here is the awkward twist.
Underneath all the hissing, this thing is genuinely, almost embarrassingly useful. Spoonworthy helps you track what your body is doing, find resources that are actually vetted instead of the fourteenth SEO blog suggesting you drink more water, and turn your own unhinged pile of symptoms into one clean page you can slide across the desk in the fifteen minutes a doctor gives you before the door swings shut. The jokes are so you feel seen. The tools are so the practical parts stop eating your entire week like a raccoon in a dumpster. Reggie relates to the raccoon.
We do not do toxic positivity here. We do not turn illness into a motivational poster. Sometimes things simply happen and the reason is that bodies are a scam. When it gets genuinely heavy, the jokes stop, the possum sits down, and we point you toward real help. That is where the bit ends, every single time.
Okay. Sincere part. We mean every word of this one.
Spoonworthy is peer support and personal organization. It is not medical advice, it is not a diagnosis, and it is not a medical device. What it does is help you organize your own information so you can share it with your own healthcare providers. Always make medical decisions with a qualified professional. Not with an app, and absolutely not with a possum, however compelling his little face is.
Your data is yours. We are not selling it. Not to advertisers, not to anyone, not ever. Full stop.
That part is completely serious. The rest of the time, assume Reggie is involved, and probably hissing.