What I've Learned About Chronic Pain This Year: A Therapist's Personal and Professional Journey

It's Pain Awareness Month again, and I've been thinking about what's changed for me since September 2024. Spoiler alert: it hasn't all been sunshine and progress. Some of it's been pretty s**t, if I'm being honest. But there have been some important realisations too, both personally and in my work with clients.

When Your Pain Gets Worse, Not Better

Let's start with the hard stuff because that's where real learning happens. My pain got significantly worse after I went back to an office role last year. Sitting all day was brutal, and I felt this weird combination of frustration and embarrassment about it. The embarrassment part really got to me. I hate that I felt ashamed about something completely outside my control.

The reality hit hardest when it came to parenting. I can't take my toddler on long walks anymore. When they're struggling to sleep, I can only rock them in the chair for so long before the pain forces me to tag my husband in. It's still a struggle to handle, honestly. I know I'm doing my 100%, although sometimes I don't even do my best, but that's okay too.

Pain Scale

The Unexpected Silver Linings

What I didn’t expect was when my family goes on those long walks without me, the quiet time alone is actually lovely. There's something freeing about admitting that. The guilt is still there sometimes, but I'm learning to appreciate the rest my body often needs.

I've also gotten much better at saying no to things and, honestly, giving less of a f**k about what others think. This honesty has had an unexpected result. My friends have become more aware of what I'm dealing with, and they've been incredibly kind. Turns out, vulnerability often brings people closer, not pushes them away.

What My Clients Are Teaching Me

Professionally, I keep seeing similar patterns of clients gaslighting themselves about their own pain. People refusing to take pain medication because they don't think they're "sore enough." Others dragging themselves to work when they can barely function because they're worried about being seen as unreliable, or because their own guilt tells them they "should" push through.

This makes people smaller. They minimise their needs, doubt their own experiences, and constantly question whether they're "sick enough" to deserve help or accommodations.

The myth I'm most determined to bust this year is that you have to be old to be in pain. The amount of dismissive comments my millennial clients face, the casual "you're too young for that" jibes, is unreal.

What's Actually Helping

Through all of this, both my own journey and watching my clients navigate theirs, I've learned that being honest about your reality really helps. Not performing wellness, not pretending limitations don't exist, just being real about what you're dealing with.

I've become kinder to myself, and I'm not entirely sure if that's from my own therapeutic work or from hearing my clients' experiences and realising I was being just as harsh with myself as they were with themselves. Probably both.

One small thing that's made dealing with my pain easier this year is focusing on the other things in my life that I love. It sounds simple, but when pain tries to take centre stage, intentionally shifting attention to what brings joy can be surprisingly powerful.

Why This Matters for Your Journey

If you're reading this and struggling with chronic pain, I want you to know that I get it. The physical pain is hard enough without adding the emotional weight of constantly having to prove your experience to others, or worse, to yourself.

You don't have to be old to hurt. You don't have to choose between taking care of your body and being a good parent, partner, or employee. You don't have to minimise your pain to make others comfortable.

Your experience is valid, full stop. The pain is real. The limitations are real. The grief over what you've lost is real. And so is your strength, even when it doesn't feel like it.

As I've learned this year, being honest about where you're at, with yourself and with trusted people in your life, isn't giving up. It's the foundation for actually moving forward.

Whether you're dealing with the guilt of cancelled plans, the frustration of being misunderstood, or the complicated feelings that come with needing help, know that you're not alone in this. And you're definitely not too young, too dramatic, or "not sick enough" to deserve support.

As always, I’m here for support if you’re ready, just give me a shout.

Kirsty x