This is the closest thing I've done to a traditional blog rather than a post that has a point or a message in a while. It talks about chronic pain, as a head's up.

September was pain awareness month. I knew I wanted to talk about this, but I wasn't sure what I wanted to say. As always, I started writing and eventually something fell out, but later than I wanted it to. However, it's always a good time to talk about chronic pain, so here we are.

I don't talk about my pain often, firstly because my pain is generally low level, and I have a life where I can manage it well. The second one is because people are often uncomfortable, unless they also experience chronic pain. There's often a lot of sympathy or solutions.

It makes sense, when told someone is experience pain, the instinct is to try to help. Especially physical pain, people are used to taking a painkiller and/or the pain being short term, not chronic. The issue is that a lot of the time, my pain is just there and there's not much to do to fix it (I probably am doing what I can to alleviate it as much as I can) (please don't recommend drinking water, or yoga, I'm doing all of it and more, I promise).

I sprained my ankle a couple of months ago. My ankles try to roll semi-regularly, it's partly why I have the cane, but they tend to fully roll once a year or so. There was a marked difference in reactions from people who know me and people who are less familiar with my body's brand of nonsense.

The people who knew me were empathetic, of course, but also in a 'yeah, that happens'. People who knew me less well were more concerned and a bit confused when they asked how I sprained my ankle and I responded saying that I was walking and it just happens every so often.

It means my relationship with pain is odd. I have a 'normal' level of pain that I don't acknowledge too much, other than to make sure I'm not making it worse my clenching muscles where the pain is.

There are times when I'm aware this isn't normal, that humans shouldn't be in pain, even low level pain, more often than they're not. There is a level of acceptance that makes it easier to handle, but there's also part of me that knows it isn't right, or fair, that this is my life, and sometimes I have to allow that part out. There's not a huge amount I can do (I'm already concerned that my doctor will try to take my painkillers away because they're an opioid, never mind actively investigating my issues), so I have to have that acceptance and remind myself of what I can do.

Living with pain has taught me a lot about sitting with discomfort, and learning when to distract myself and when to look after myself. It's taught me how to balance rest and doing, and actively looking after myself. There are times when I am absolutely fed up and done with being in pain and monitoring the weather for my migraines, making sure I'm stretching and doing physio regularly. I always have easy food in, so I can feed myself if needed, and I enjoy the work of preparing when I am feeling good enough to do so, so future me can look after themselves as easily as possible.

I'm currently having to teach myself how to cross stitch with my (non-dominant) right hand because I have to use my cane with my left hand, and then use it for writing and feeding myself and general life, but then adding cross stitch on top of that means my shoulder aches a lot.

Going back to pole dancing and having muscle aches that I know I caused doing something good and fun, and seeing the strength in my body despite the pain and wobbles has been amazing for my mental health. It's a change in the relationship with my body that I didn't realise I needed.

Chronic pain is complicated. It requires a lot of management at times, which sometimes feels like a burden, rather than the joy of self care. Other times it means I'm living in my body, and being aware of it in ways that are helpful and can make adjustments to help alleviate and avoid pain. It means I can advocate for myself and others when it comes to disability accommodations, and I bring my knowledge of this into when I talk about self care.

There's not really a message here, just a 'hi, I have pain. If we've met in person I've probably had some pain, I might have even been on painkillers. It sucks, but I can see some good there at times. Life is complicated, bodies are complicated, and don't feel like you have to be one thing all the time.'.