Dating people chronic pain

As with other disabilities, chronic pain creates a chain reaction of struggles in one’s life — not the least of which is dating.For me, the dating struggle has manifested in a number of ways: Sometimes getting out of bed is a Herculean task, and the major events of my day consist of taking a hot bath, then lying sprawled on a post-apocalyptic size ice pack. You should try it.) In this case, the impact on my ability to date is obvious: Unless a gaggle of metrosexual hotties not only line up on my doorstep but also magically whip out a key to my apartment, I’m not playing.There are a lot of differences, though, between chronic pain hitting existing established relationships and attempting to start a new relationship when you already live with chronic pain.I’ve talked to a few single friends about the pitfalls of dating with chronic illness and that alone is difficult, the gauging when to even tell a potential partner about your illness…

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For many of them, at the top of the list of those challenges is the fact that other people simply don’t believe that a young person could possibly suffer from a condition that might be chronic.I hope you'll keep reading - check out the sidebar for a list of my readers favorite posts, and ..subscribe to my Newsletter to make sure you don't miss a post. *BTW, just a heads up that the post below may have affiliate links (some of my posts do).I found nothing incorrect which is not the case with most articles on the subject.Thank you so very much for addressing this." Doctors have recently found arthritis in both feet and more recently in my spine, causing nerve pain as well that makes me so miserable. I sometimes feel that NOBODY, especially family, understands just how "uncomfortable" and "unpredictable" my pain is. I can now share completely how I really feel EVERYDAY.Then there’s the unpleasant aspect of screening through random weirdos — going out to coffee with those who seem fabulous on the computer screen but turn out to, shall we say, not quite pass muster in real life. Maybe I should go back.) The “problem” is, I love what I do so very much, that in most cases — given my time and energy constraints — I prefer to be sitting at my ergonomic desk in my cozy home office, sporting my plaid flannel jammies and big fuzzy slippers, maniacally rubbing my hands together while crafting my latest plot to take over the world. Despite my disability, I am living my dreams — which leaves me with a very low tolerance for anything less than fantastic.

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