How Chronic Pain Affects Young People (Part One)

Intro

Hi, friends 👋🏽

Today’s blog post is going to be a little different—I’m breaking it into two parts.

Why? Because I’m currently in the middle of a flare-up, and while I want to honor my commitment to you, I also want to honor my energy. You all deserve the very best, and I don’t want to spread myself too thin. This way, I can give you meaningful content while still caring for myself. 💛

1. My Personal Experience as a Teen

My journey began at 17 years old, when pain erupted in my hands.

My family and I were baffled. We couldn’t understand what caused it, and soon, my life began to shift in ways I wasn’t ready for. I wasn’t able to do the things I used to. Sometimes, I couldn’t even hang out with my friends, which left me feeling isolated and alone. At such a young age, it was heartbreaking.

The future I had envisioned—college, my dream career, traveling the world—started to feel like water slipping through my fingers. No matter how tightly I tried to hold on, it felt impossible to keep.

2. The Invisible Weight of Chronic Pain

One of the hardest parts of this journey has been living with an illness that no one can see.

Some of my biggest struggles were being misunderstood by peers and even teachers. Because my pain was so intense, I had to leave school often. A few teachers would make comments about my noticeable absences, and those jabs cut deep.

I also missed out on so many “normal” teenage experiences. I didn’t graduate with my high school class because I had to be homeschooled. I never learned to drive at 15 or 16 like my friends did, because the pain in my hands made it impossible. Those milestones may seem small to some, but they were huge losses for me.

3. The Emotional Toll

Even now, I still wrestle with the emotional impact of CRPS. I worry about my future—how I’ll provide for myself as my condition progresses. I feel frustrated that so many careers I once dreamed of are now out of reach, requiring physical labor or energy I no longer have.

And I grieve. I grieve the carefree, spirited girl I once was, who didn’t have to carry these worries. I miss her. I miss being healthy.

But here’s the hope: through it all, I’ve learned. I’ve grown more resilient than I ever thought I could be. I’ve gained a perspective I wouldn’t have otherwise. And even though it’s hard, that growth matters.

Closing for Part One

This? This is just scratching the surface.

Next week, in Part Two, I’ll go deeper—into relationships, education and career, and the importance of finding community and support.

We’ll get through this together. 💛

With Warmth & Resilience,
Tala Röse