Okay, here's something that might sound completely backwards.
I'm deep into creating this chronic pain tracking app, and I haven't looked at a single competitor. Haven't downloaded anything from the App Store. Haven't even bothered Googling what's already out there.
And before you think I'm just being stubborn or cocky — trust me, I tried to do the "proper" research thing. But every single pain app I attempted to use made me want to throw my phone across the room within minutes.
The Problem With Every Health App I've Ever Touched
Picture this: it's the middle of the night, your body feels like it's staging a rebellion, and your brain is wrapped in cotton. You just want to quickly jot down what's happening before you lose track of everything.
Instead, you're greeted with:
Screens so bright they could guide ships to shore
"Let's get your wearables connected first!"
"Create your profile to unlock features!"
Password requirements that would make a bank jealous
So I created what's probably the most unprofessional product philosophy ever:
"If this makes me feel worse when I'm already falling apart, it's gone. Period."
That's literally how I'm building this thing.
What Happens When You Design for Your Worst Moments
Here's what came out of that approach:
Everything's dark by default
Not just dark mode available somewhere in settings. Dark first, always. With these soft, earthy tones that feel more like sitting in a quiet forest than navigating another medical interface. Because when you're hurting, harsh light feels cruel.
Zero signup nonsense
Launch the app, start tracking. That's it. Your stuff stays right there on your device in IndexedDB — we're not even collecting it. There's literally nowhere for us to store your data because we don't want it.
Notifications mind their own business
We'll never ambush you with permission requests the second you open the app. Want medication reminders? You'd have to actively hunt for that setting. Decline once and we remember forever — no pestering.
Built for brain fog and shaky hands
Everything auto-saves as you type. Buttons are big enough to tap when your hands aren't cooperating. The language is gentle instead of clinical. There's even a "hide everything" button in case someone walks in during a vulnerable moment.
Internet? Optional.
Once it loads the first time, you could disconnect from the world and still use every feature. Bad connection in the ER? Doesn't matter. Rural area with spotty service? Still works.
Why This Approach Probably Makes No Business Sense
Every startup guide tells you to study your competition, find market gaps, craft positioning statements.
But here's the gap I actually care about: nobody's designing for people when they're barely hanging on.
All these apps assume you're the motivated version of yourself — the one who wants to gamify health goals and share progress and earn achievement badges.
That's not who I am when I'm awake at 3 AM because my body won't cooperate. And I'm guessing it's not who you are either.
The Only Promise That Matters
Look, I have no idea if this will ever matter to more than a handful of people.
What I do know is this: it won't add to anyone's suffering.
If this project crashes and burns, it'll do so quietly. And anyone who gave it a shot will have had at least one interaction with technology that didn't demand more than they could give.
Honestly? That feels like enough.
Building everything out in the open if you want to follow along (or tell me how wrong I'm getting everything):
→ github.com/CrisisCore-Systems/pain-tracker
Completely private · stays on your device · designed for the hardest days
———
If you're dealing with chronic pain and want to try it or just need someone to vent to about terrible health apps, feel free to reach out. No need to sugarcoat anything.
Top comments (0)