Okay, buckle up, because today we’re diving headfirst into the land of chronic pain in a nutshell (more detailed posts to come at some point. You know me chaos is what I am with topics). And let me tell you, it’s no tropical vacation. This isn’t sipping piña coladas on white sandy beaches; it’s more like having an angry swarm of bees in your spine while someone plays heavy metal on your nerve endings. Fun, right? Oh, and if you sprinkle a little AuDHD (that’s Autism Spectrum Disorder + ADHD for the uninitiated) into the mix, you’ve got yourself a recipe for chaos so spicy, not even Gordon Ramsay would dare taste it.

So, let’s rewind a little. Picture it: I’m cruising along, minding my own business, probably thinking about whether this blasted -50C weather is going to bugger off and when, when BAM! A car accident. And just like that, my body decided, “Hey, you know what would be fun? Lumbar disc degeneration and torn hip labrums!” Classic overachiever, my body is. It’s like it looked at the menu of possible post-accident ailments and whispered, “I’ll take one of everything, please.”

But wait, there’s more! As if my hips and spine weren’t already auditioning for the role of Worst Supporting Characters in the Drama That Is My Life, fibromyalgia decided to crash the party. Fun fact: fibromyalgia can be triggered by trauma. Who knew, right? Answer: not me, until I got smacked upside the head with it. And when I say “smacked,” I mean metaphorically, although let’s be honest, it feels literal on bad days. Fibro doesn’t just show up with a polite knock on the door. No, it kicks the door down, steals your snacks, and leaves you curled up wondering what you did to deserve this chaos.

Now, let’s talk about the pain itself. Chronic pain is a fickle beast. One moment, you’re cruising through what feels like a “good day” — which, in chronic pain terms, means you’re functional enough to make toast without cursing at the universe. And the next? BAM. It’s like someone switched your pain level to “holy hell, I’m going to puke.” No warning, no courtesy call, nothing. And it can happen in the time it takes to blink or sneeze — truly Olympic-level speed. Sometimes, I even question if my pain has a vendetta against me. “Oh, you think you can sit comfortably? Not on my watch!”

Now, imagine all this chaos, but through the lens of AuDHD. Oh, boy. If chronic pain is a nightmare, then AuDHD is the clown in the corner, giggling maniacally while juggling flaming torches. My brain is a circus on its best days — thoughts bouncing around like caffeinated squirrels, executive dysfunction throwing tantrums, sensory issues having a field day with every little thing. And then you add chronic pain to the mix, and suddenly even sitting in a chair becomes a Herculean task. The pain demands attention, but my AuDHD brain would rather hyperfixate on obscure topics like “what if clouds are just giant marshmallows?” It’s a tug-of-war between chaos and discomfort, and frankly, I don’t even know who’s winning.

And oh, the unpredictability of it all! Some days, I wake up feeling like I could conquer the world — or at least unload the dishwasher. Other days, I wake up and the mere thought of standing feels like I’m preparing for war. The pain isn’t consistent, and honestly, that feels like the cruelest part. A good day feels like winning the lottery, but you know the IRS (aka a bad pain day) is waiting around the corner to snatch it all away. And then there’s the flare-ups. Fibro flare-ups are like surprise pop quizzes, except you didn’t study and the only question on the test is, “How much suffering can you endure before you cry?”

Now, let’s talk coping mechanisms. If you’re imagining me lounging gracefully in meditation mode, humming peacefully — HA! Spoiler alert: I’m more likely frantically Googling things like “can I swap my spine for one made of jelly?” or trying to distract myself with something mildly productive, like organizing my socks by emotional vibe. (Yes, “angsty socks” is a category, thank you very much.) Sometimes, I try stretching, which feels like attempting yoga in a room full of Lego bricks. Other times, I bribe myself to move with promises of snacks. Most of the time I fall into the trap of Doom Scrolling. Whatever works, right?

But here’s the thing about living with chronic pain: you learn to adapt. Sure, my body feels like it’s auditioning for a role in a horror movie most days, but I’ve got resilience on my side. I’ve learned to laugh at the absurdity of it all (because let’s be honest, crying takes too much energy). I’ve found comfort in small victories — like when I manage to put on pants without wincing or when I successfully carry a cup of tea from the kitchen to the couch without spilling it like an Olympic hurdler. Chronic pain has taught me patience, creativity, and a deep appreciation for warm showers. This is because warm moist heat penetrates while heating pads are just about as effective as a placebo.

So, yeah, living with lumbar disc degeneration, torn hip labrums, fibromyalgia, and AuDHD is a bit like wrangling a tornado while wearing roller skates. It’s chaotic, unpredictable, and sometimes downright ridiculous. But it’s my reality, and I’m determined to keep rolling with it — even if the roller skates have a few wobbly wheels. And hey, at least my chaotic brain keeps life interesting. After all, who else is going to wonder if penguins have knees while icing their back? Chaos and humour — my ultimate survival tools!