Last month I wrote a letter to myself on the day I was diagnosed, I mentioned that the date has been burned into my memory, and today is that date ten years on.
Six six six
Ten years. Ten whole years since someone told me the strangest words I'd ever heard. Since, I didn't have to beg doctors to believe my pain wasn't in my head. Since everything simultaneously got better and worse within seconds. I've lived in pain since I was 13, but my diagnosis didn't come until I was 19 - I sometimes can't even remember a time before I wasn't in pain.
I used to think chronic pain would mean that my life was over, how was I supposed to do all the things I'd planned when everything hurts all the time? For a while I isolated myself, and sometimes I still do, but I try to keep focussed, and writing has been a lifesaver.
I've achieved more than I ever thought I would; I have a BA and MA in English, I've had various short stories and poetry published, I'm a trustee for Enhance the UK and editor for Liability Magazine, and I have quite a few exciting projects in the mix.
Not only that but I have people in my life that really, truly care. My boyfriend worships the ground I wheel on, and is the best. My Mum is an angel, seriously, that woman deserves all the medals. My Pops is awesome. My brother is a nuisance but I love him and he always has my back. My bestie is a legend, I could not love him any more. KP, my nephew is the light of my life and can always make me smile. Beth and Shona are ultimate babes and I'm so glad they're part of my life. My Spoonie/Twitter/blogger family are just incredible and can always make me see the light.