Nine Years With Chronic Pain

Today, I have officially been living with chronic pain and illness for nine whole years of my adult life.

One more year, and it will be an entire decade.

How did that happen?

Where did the time go?

One minute I was waking up to back pain as an able-bodied twenty-six year old, and now here I am, nine years later, aged thirty-five, still in pain, and chronically ill with Ankylosing Spondylitis, Arthritis, Fibromyalgia, Degenerative Disc Disease, Bertolotti's Disease, and Tachycardia. I'll say it again: how did that happen?

I can still remember that first day as if it were yesterday.

At six am on the 8th of September 2011, I awakened to pain radiating from deep within my lower back. It was faint at first, but it felt different to any pain I'd ever felt before, and I instinctively knew something was wrong. Ironically, I was woken up by my sister who was sick and needed me to take her to A&E, so I did my best to ignore the pain, and took her to the hospital. I continued to ignore the pain in my back for almost two weeks, hoping if I kept working and moving around it would just go away on its own. Instead, it was getting worse day by day, and on the twelfth day, I came home from work after a nine hour shift and collapsed on the kitchen floor. I gave in and phoned the doctor, and while it took years to get diagnosed, from that point, my life was never the same again.

Sometimes it feels like no time at all has passed since those early days, and other times it feels like this has been my life forever. I've become so used to this way of life; living housebound with constant pain and fatigue, taking medication, regular trips to the doctor's, blood tests, treatments, flares, reduced mobility, rarely leaving the house, and needing help from family with every day tasks. It's just as normal to me now as my life before chronic illness was. (Although, if you'd have told me nine years ago that I would still be in pain nine years later and chronically ill with multiple conditions, I never would've believed you. In fact, I would've probably laughed in your face).

I made my peace with the changes to my life a long time ago, but of course, there are still days when I miss my old healthy life, and mourn what I've lost. I was only twenty-six when my life was turned upside down, and sometimes I do mourn all the things I've missed out on during what should've been some of the best years of my life. I'm only human. I had to give up my job and dreams of going back in to animal care. I lost friends when I got sick. I've missed out on travel and meeting new people, getting my own place, and a world of possibility. Sometimes I do feel sad thinking of what I've missed, and I can't help wondering where I'd be now if I hadn't gotten ill.

However, these thoughts only hit me occasionally (albeit, a little more frequently recently after realising how many years have passed) and I try not to think of the changes to my health and life too negatively too often. I shouldn't be thinking of it as a life lost. I'm not dead. Just because my life is different now, doesn't mean it has to be a terrible life. Yes, living with chronic illnesses is challenging every single day, but I have plenty of things in my life to be thankful for, and lots of little things that bring me joy and make my life worth living.

I can't go out all the time and live my life to the full the way I wish I could, so I've learnt to find other ways to fill my time from home, and try to appreciate the little things in life. A good book, nature I can see outside my bedroom window, craft projects, sunny days, cuddles from my dog, good food, new brooches, music, movies... all kinds of little things. It's a different, slower way of living, but it's still a life. And it's the only one I've got.

I'd love to get my old life back, but let's be realistic; it's never going to happen. Most days I can barely even get out of bed for the pain. I won't get better, and will likely only get worse as I age and my conditions degenerate. The old days are gone, and I can only look forward.

I'm never going to be one of those inspirational disabled people who overcome their challenges to climb mountains or sail solo around the world (but let's face, I never did those things before chronic illness, either), but I'm proud of myself for how I've coped every step of the way over the last nine years. They've been the most life-altering and debilitating years of my life. I've been through a lot, life's been hard at times, but I'm still here, still fighting, and making it from one day to the next. I'm proud of myself for never giving up even though at times I may have wanted to when the pain has been unbearable, and yet another doctor wouldn't take my symptoms seriously. I'm proud that I'm stubborn, and don't give up so easily.

I got through the last nine years, I got through another period of chronic pain in my teens, and I know I can get through all the years of chronic pain and illness that might be ahead of me. I just need to take each day one at a time, and keep making the best out of the life I have. 

That's all anybody can do, right?

I can't help but wonder where the next nine years will take me.

It's probably not far, but I'll keep you informed!