Catharsis.

So, another long gap has formed in my blog posts. At least this time I have a valid excuse. I've had another crash.

I've been working up to this crash since last year, as I've been burning the candle at both ends and haven't taken enough time to rest and recover. If I were my own client, I'd be cross with me. So now I am on rest detail, and have been for several weeks now. I took a pitstop in my rest to go on holiday, but it turned out that even holiday was too much for me. So now I'm back on the sofa.

I've never been great at resting. It bores and frustrates me. I don't have the mindset for a chronic illness, and that is one of the biggest hurdles I face in my day to day life. So now I am on the hunt for cathartic activities. Blogging was supposed to achieve this, and it probably would if I could remember to do it from time to time. I've also started writing a book. Well, a couple of books really. But I used to write all the time, and I can't help thinking that being able to get the words out of my like I used to would really help. So once again, I turn to my blog for cathartic outlet.

I need to be less afraid to share what and who I am with those of you who are interested enough to read my blog. Sometimes I am worried that if I admit to the other facets of me, those of you who see me purely as a professional will suddenly think that perhaps you shouldn't be seeing me at all. But an important part of my rehabilitation process is to stop being the social chameleon, stop hiding parts of myself from other people, and just relax and not worry about what people think. No man is an island, and if I'm honest I am totally land-locked. I'm a faddy person, who likes to dabble in everything.

And you know what? I like me. So from now on, I invite you all to like me too. Not just the me who likes holistic therapy and bunnies, but the me who likes to dress up as a fairy and run round the Welsh countryside, the me who has a shameful addiction to Take Me Out, and the me who really loves the novels of Janet Evanovich.

And then, when you've decided whether you like me or not, why not decide whether you're ready to let other people like you, the whole you, and nothing but the real you.

Escape.

By now, many of you have realised that I refuse to just sit back and let me condition rule my life. I prefer to carry on doing the things I love, even if it has to be a slightly toned down version. Since becoming ill, I have discovered a hobby that, although physically demanding, allows me to escape the world of pain and exhaustion. I like to live role-play.

For anyone not familiar with this concept, I dress up in fantasy costume, sometimes I paint my face, I pick up a foam and latex weapon and charge off into battle. Admittedly, the only time I ever use a weapon is to parry blows, but I still have a great time. For those who are not inflicted with chronic pain, it is a brutal, highly physical hobby. For those of us who are, it is somewhat softer. I tend to prefer playing a healer, so I float along behind a party, watch them spring into action and then appear with either a roll of bandages or a nifty incantation that will fix any broken limbs and allow the fighters to continue keeping me safe.

Most systems seem to allow for players to avoid combat in one way or another. I now play with two different groups, who do this differently. One group give me a white sash which renders me immune from combat - incredibly useful for a healer - and the other tells me to run away as fast as I can. At the latter I have been hit twice, and it can be incredibly painful, but given how long I have been playing being hit twice is reassuringly low. When I compare it to how many times I've cracked heads with another backstroker, accidentally stuck needles into my fingers (or legs, or arms, or belly...) or fallen over trying to get from one room to another, I do find LRP a surprisingly painless hobby.

The other thing that LRP offers that other hobbies don't is the opportunity to escape. If you look at videos such as the one below, you will see how immersive the experience is, and what an amazing opportunity it offers to escape the routine of daily life. LRPers will tell you time and time again that you can be whoever you want to be, and whatever you want to be, and when I devise my characters I choose not to be ill, and not to be in constant pain. It's not foolproof, but the difference in pain levels catches me by surprise every time I play. And this is why LRP changed my life.

Any of you who have known me for a while will know that earlier this year I experienced a change. The pain changed for me, and I am now much happier in myself. Some of this was due to a change in medication. Some of it was due to a change in mindset. I realised that when I am Ezra, or Thalia, or Jessalyn, or Ruby I manage my pain in a completely different manner. It is still there, I just choose to feel it in different ways. Each of my characters deals with their pain in a different way, and this made me realise that as Sally I can choose the method of coping that works best for me. And if I work really hard, in time, I will be able to escape it altogether.

Now I'm not saying that LRP is a magical cure and that every chronic pain sufferer should throw themselves whole-heartedly into playing. I have simply found that this is the way of escaping that works for me. What I do think every chronic pain sufferer should do if they want to get better is to find the hobby, the mindset, the activity or whatever else it is that gives them a way to escape. It is hard work being in constant pain, and we all deserve a way out.